N 


D.  APPLETOiT  &  CO., 

346    &    348    BROADWAY,   NEW-YORK, 

Hare  just  published 
THE 

$^\n\  Ciiius  of  glississi|i]ji  u\  Alabama; 

By  JOSEPH  G.  BALDWIN. 

ILLUSTRATED,  12mo.     830  PAGES. 


These  sketches  of  the  ''Flush  Times''  of  our  own  day,  personating 
our  own  citizens,  are  written  with  entertaining  spirit,  elegance,  and 
humor,  and  cannot  fail  to  contribute  to  the  enjoyment  and  gratification 
of  all  readers. 

Few  works  have  ever  been  issued  from  the  press  which  has  been  as 
favorably  received  by  the  whole  public  astliis,  upwards  of  Nine  Thou- 
sand having  been  sold  within  a  few  weeks  after  its  appearance. 

Contents  of  "Flush  Times."— OVID  BOLUS,  Esq.,  Attorney  at  Law,  and 
Solicitor  in  Chancery.— MY  FIRST  APPEARANCE  AT  THE  BAR,  Iliggin- 
botham  vs.  Swink,  Slander.— THE  BENCH  AND  THE  BAR.  Introduction— Jolly 
Times— Chaoa  of  Jurisprudence — The  Era  of  Quashing — Jim.  T.,  a  Character — 
How  to  get  rid  of  Counts  in  a  Declaration— A  Nonsuit — The  Commonwealth  vs. 
Foreman— Yankee  Schoolmaster  in  a  Fix— The  Argument  and  Verdict,  &c. — 
HOW  THE  TIMES  SEtiVED  THE  VIRGINIANS.— Virginians  in  a  New 
Country— The  Rise,  Decline,  and  Fall  of  the  Rag  Empire.— ASSAULT  AND 
BATTERY- ^wrre-Z^or  Burwell  Shines— His  Testimony  in  Full— Verdict  of  the 
Jury.— SIMON  SUGGS,  Jr.,  Esq.;  A  LEGAL  BIOGRAPHY.— Correspondence.— 
SQUIRE  A.  AND  THE  FRITTERS.— .JONATHAN  AND  THE  CONSTABLE. 
— J^HARP  FINANCIERING— CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.— 
His  Traits  and  Characteristics— The  Earthquake  Story— A  Breach  of  Promise— A 
Fining  Judge — Scene  in  a  Court  House — Miss  Jule  Pritcher — Catastrophe,  &c.,  &c. 
-JUSTIFICATION  AFTER  VERDICT.— AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOR.— HON. 
8.  S.  PRENTISS.— A  Sketch  of  his  Character,  and  Review  of  his  Public  Career.— 
THE  BAR  OF  THE  SOUTH-WEST.- Jurisprudence  in  a  New  Country— The 
Young  Attorney  and  the  Celebrated  Lawyer- Litigation  Attending  Frontier  Life— 
The  Poetry  of  Swindling,  &c.,  &c.— HON.  FRANCIS  STROTHER.— "  Portrait 
of  a  Gentleman"— The  Genius  of  Labor- Rare  Union  of  the  Suaviier  and  the 
Fortiler— The  Hon.  Francis'  Munificence— His  Services  to  the  State,  &c.,  &c. — 
MR.  TEE  AND  MR.  GEE— SCAN.  MAG.— AN  EQUITABLE  SEl'-QFF.— 
A  COOL  REJOINDER.— A  HUNG  COURT.— Smith  vs.  Johnson.— sJfuEL 
HELE,  ESQ.,  A  Yankee  Schoolmistress  and  an  Alabama  Lawyer.— JOHN 
STOUT,  ESQ.,  AND  MARKSULLIVAN.^MONSLOW— JO.  HEYFRON— OLD 
UNCLE  JOHN  OLIVE.-EXAMLNING  A  CANDIDATE  FOR  LICENSE. 


NOTICES  OF  THE  PRESS   OF  ''FLUSH  TIMES." 

*' There  is  a  spice  of  real  wii  throug-hout  the  book  that  renders  it  greatly 
altraciive,  while  the  subjects  are  of  niieresl  to  every  body,  not  even  excepting 
the  wonliy  members  of  liie  legal  profession.  To  all  we  say,  get  and  read  this 
book." — Daily  Pennsylvanian,  Pkila. 

"One  of  the  most  entertaining  books  we  have  read  in  a  long  time." — Nat. 
Democrat^  New-  York. 

"  This  is  a  series  of  dashing,  graphic,  and  able  sketches  of  men,  manners, 
habits,  scenes,  incidents,  accidents,  and  events  wliich  passed  before  the  author's 
observation,  while  practising  law  and  studying  the  world  in  Alabama  and 
Mississippi." — Worcester  Daily  Spy. 

*'  There  is  not  a  page  of  the  book  that  is  not  invested  with  the  deepest 
interest,  and  which  will  not  serve  to  beguile  a  weary  hour  with  reading  of 
the  most  entertaining  kind." — Commercial  Advertiser. 

*'  We  are  but  giving  an  expression  to  a  widely  entertained  opinion,  when 
we  say,  that  they  are  the  very  best  things  of  the  kind  that  the  age  has  pro- 
duced."— Southern  Literary  Messenger. 

"  This  book  will  be  good  any  where,  but  in  Alabama  and  Mississippi  it 
will  be  read  with  an  appreciative  gusto  which  few  in  this  latitude  can  compre- 
hend."— Springfield  Republican. 

"As  a  delineation  of  character  and  incident,  developed  by  the  Flush  Times, 
this  book  is  a  verity,  corroborated  by  the  recollection  of  every  observant  man 
of  those  da)'s.  It  is  truly  an  admirable  performance,  evincing  abilities  of  a 
very  high  order.  Brilliant  as  its  wit  and  irresistible  as  its  humor  are,  one 
sees,  that  they  are  among  the  rich  gifts  with  which  nature  has  lavishly  en- 
dowed the  author.  He  is  a  man  to  write  books  to  endure." — Chambers'' s  Tri- 
bune^ Ala. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  volumes  of  the  season  ;  for  a  winter 
evening  or  a  rainy  day,  it  is  a  charming  book." — Lynchburgh  Virginian. 

"There  is  a  vein  of  quiet  humor  running  through  the  whole;  and  as  the 
volume  contains  330  pages,  the  reader  may  be  sure  of  330  laughs  alone  to 
himself  before  he  reaches  the  conclusion." — Worcester  Palladium. 

"His  pictures  of  Life  in  the  West  are  inimitable.  No  one  could  procure  a 
more  efficient  book  for  expelling  the  blues." — Southern  Literary  Messenger. 

"  It  abounds  in  sparkling  wit  and  irresistible  humour,  and  to  members  of  the 
bar  particularly,  must  prove  a  source  of  much  merriment" — Newark  Daily  Adv, 

"  One  of  the  best  things  in  the  season.  Portraits  dravm,  con  amor&,  of  bench 
and  bar,  where  prominently  figures  our  old  acquaintance,  Simon  Suggs,  Esq  Mr. 
Baldwin  ranks,  intellectually,  and  as  a  lawyer,  among  the  very  first  men  In  the 
State,  and  for  dry  and  genial  humor,  we  know  not  his  superior  in  the  South."— 
Mj^l6  Daily  Advertiser. 

TJjpne  of  the  most  mirth-provoking  works  we  ever  met  with,'' — Louisville  Jour. 

"  A  book  which  will  be  in  great  demand."—  Winchester  RepuUican. 

♦'Each  chapter  begins  with  a  smile  and  ends  with  a  horse  laugh."— TVoy  Daily 
Times. 

"  Since  the  publication  of  Judge  Longstreet's  Georgia  Scenes,  we  have  had  no- 
thing more  amusing  than  some  sketches  in  this  \o\\xm^''— Buffalo  Daily  Courdr. 

"  We  predict  for  It  most  flattering  favor."—  Wntem  Hilary  Messtnger. 


s 


THE 


FLUSH  TIMES 


ALABAMA  AND  MISSISSIPPI. 


%  ^txm  of  Sfutrl^s. 


JOSEPH    a.    BALDWIN. 


TENTH    THOUSAND. 


NEW-YORK : 
D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  346  &  348  BROADWAY; 

LONDON  ;    16  LITTLE  BRITAIN. 
M.DCCC.LIY. 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S58,  by 

D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New-York. 


TO 

«THE    OLD    FOLKS    AT    HOME   »» 

MY  FEEEND3 
IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHEIS'ANDOAH, 

B9  EBSPEOTFULLY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 


Some  of  these  papers  were  pnblislied  in  the  Southern 
Literary  Messenger^  and  having  met  with  a  favor- 
able reception  from  the  Public,  and  a  portion  of  the 
Press,  the  author  has  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of 
his  own  vanity,  and  other  flattering  friends,  and  col- 
lected them  in  a  volume  with  other  pieces  of  the  same 
general  character.  The  scheme  of  the  articles  he 
believes  to  be  original  in  design  and  execution, — at 
least,  no  other  work  with  which  he  is  acquainted,  has 
been  published  in  the  United  States  designed  to  illus-^ 
trate  the  periods,  the  characters,  and  the  phases  of  the 
society,  some  notion  of  which  is  attempted  to  be  given 
in  this  volume.     The  author,  under  the  tremor  of  a 


VX  PRrFACE. 

first  publication,  felt  strongly  inclined  to  offer  a 
sneaking  apology  for  the  many  errors  and  imperfec- 
tions of  his  work ;  such  as  the  fact  that  the  articles 
were  written  in  haste,  under  the  pressure  of  profes- 
sional engagements  and  amidst  constant  interruptions  ; 
and  that  he  has  no  time  or  opportunity  for  correction 
and  revision.  But  he  anticipated  the  too  ready  an- 
swer to  such  a  plea :  "  If  you  had  no  time  to  write 
well,  why  did  you  write  at  all  ?  Who  constrained  you  ? 
If  you  were  not  in  dress  to  see  company,  why  como 
unbidden  into  the  presence  of  the  pubKc  ?  Why  not, 
at  least,  wait  until  you  were  fit  to  be  presejited  ? '' 
He  confesses  that  he  sees  no  way  to  answer  these 
tough  questions,  unless  the  apology  of  Falstaff  for 
rushing  into  the  presence  of  King  Hal,  "  before  he 
had  time  to  have  made  new  liveries '' — "  stained  with 
travel  and  sweating  with  desire  to  see  him,'' — ^be  a 
good  one — as  "  inferring  the  zeal  he  had  to  see  him  " 
— "  the  earnestness  of  affection '' — "  the  devotion  :  '* 
but  in  poor  Jack's  case,  "  not  to  deliberate^  not  to  re-- 
member,  not  to  have  patience  to  shift  him,'  was  not 
a  very  effectual  excuse  for  his  coming  out  of  sorts ; 
and  we  are  afraid,  that   that   other   Sovereign,  the 


PREFACE.  Vll 

Public^  is  not  more  facile  of  approach,  or  more  credu- 
lous of  excuses  ;  for,  unfortunately,  the  ardor  of  an 
author's  greeting  is  something  beyond  the  heat  of  the 
Public's  reception  of  him,  or,  as  Pat  expresses  it,  the 
reciprocity  of  feeling  is  all  on  one  side. 

Without  apology,  therefore,  he  gives  these  leaves 
to  the  winds, — with  that  feeUng  of  comfort  and  com- 
posure which  comes  of  the  knowledge  that,  let  the 
venture  go  as  it  may,  he  loses  little  who  puts  but  little 
at  hazard. 

The  author  begs  to  return  to  the  accomplished 
Editor  of  the  Messenger,  Jno.  E.  Thompson,  Esq.,  his 
acknowledgments,  for  revising  and  correctmg  this 
work  as  it  passed  through  the  press. 

Livingston,  Ala.,  1853. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Ovn)  Bolus,  Esq.  .  .  .  .  ,1 

Attorney  at  Law,  and  Solicitor  in  Chancery. 

Mt  First  Appearance  at  the  Bar        ...  20 

Higginbotham  vs.  Swink,  Slander. 

The  Bench  and  the  Bar  .  .  .  .47 

Introduction— Jolly  Times— Chaos  of  tfaiisprudence — The  Era  of 

Quashing — Jim  T.,  a  Character — How  to  get  rid  of  Counts  in  a 

Declaration — A  Nonsuit — The  Commonwealth   vs.  Foreman — 

Yankee  Schoolmaster  in  a  Fix — The  Argument  and  Verdict,  &c. 

How  the  Times  Served  the  Virginians  .  .  72 

Virginians  in  a  New  Country — The  Else,  Decline,  and  Fall  of  tho 
Eag  Empire. 

Assault  and  Battery     .  .  .  .  .106 

•     Burrell  or  Burwell  Shines— His  Testimony  in  Full— Verdict  of  the 
Jury. 

Slmon  Suggs,  Jr.,  Esq.  ;   A  Legal  Biography      .  .  114 

Correspondence. 

Squire  A.  and  the  Fritters  ....     142 

Jonathan  and  the  Constable  .  .  .  147 

Sharp  Financierinq        .  .  .  .  .161 

Cave  Burton,  Esq.,  of  Kentucky  .  .  .  153 

His  Traits  and  Characteristics — The  Earthquake  Story— A  Breach  of 
Promise— A  Fining  Judge— Scene  in  a  Court-House— Miss  Jule 
Pritcher — Catastrophe,  &c.,  &o. 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

Justification  after  Yerdict         .  .  .  .177 

An  Affair  of  Honor  .  .  .  .  192 

Hon.  S.  S.  Prentiss       .  .  .  .  .197 

A  Sketch  of  his  Character,  and  i^eview  of  his  Public  Career. 

The  Bar  of  the  South- West  .  .  .  223 

Jurisprudence  in  a  New  Country— The  Young  Attorney  and  tho 
Celebrated  Lawyer— Litigation  attending  Frontier  Life — The 
Poetry  of  Swindling,  &c.,  &c. 

Hon.  Francis  Strother  ....     250 

*  Portrait  of  a  Gentleman ' — The  Genius  of  Labor — Earo  Union  of  the 
SiKwiter  and  the  Fortiter — The  Hon.  Francis's  Munificence — 
His  Services  to  the  State,  &c.,  &c 

Mr.  Tee  and  Mr.  Gee         .  .  .  264 

Scan.  Mag.      .  .  .  .  .  .271 

An  Equitable  Set-Off  ....  273 

A  Cool  Rejoinder         .....     276 

A  Hung  Court       .....  276 

Smith  xs.  Johnson. 

Samuel  Hele,  Esq.         .....     284 

A  Yankee  Schoolmistress  and  an  Alabama  Lawyer. 

John  Stout,  Esq.,  and  Mark  Sulli'^an  ,                 ,             804 

Mr,  Onslow    .                 .                 .  .                 .                 .812 

Jo.  Heyfron            .                .                .  .                .316 

Old  Uncle  John  Olive                  .  •                .     318 

Examining  a  Candidate  for  License   .  •            824 


OVID  BOLUS,  ESQ., 

ATTORIsrEY  AT  LAW  AND  SOLICITOR  IN  CHANCERY. 
a  JFra^ntjent. 


And  what  history  of  that  halcyon  period,  ranging  from  the 
year  of  Grace,  1835,  to  1837;  that  golden  era,  when  shin- 
plasters  were  the  sole  currency ;  when  bank-bills  were  '^  as 
thick  as  Autumn  leaves  in  Yallambrosa,"  and  credit  was  a 
franchise, — what  history  of  those  times  would  be  complete, 
that  left  out  the  name  of  Ovid  Bolus  ?  As  well  write  the 
biography  of  Prince  Hal,  and  forbear  all  mention  of  Falstaff. 
In  law  phrase,  the  thing  would  be  a  "  deed  without  a 
name,"  and  void ;  a  most  unpardonable  casus  omissus, 

I  cannot  trace,  for  reasons  the  sequel  suggests,  the  early 
history,  much  less  the  birth-place,  pedigree,  and  juvenile 
associations  of  this  worthy.  Whence  he  or  his  forbears  got 
his  name  or  how,  I  don't  know :  but  for  the  fact  that  it  is  to 
be  inferred  he  got  it  in  infancy,  I  should  have  thought  he 


2  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

borrowed  it :  Le  borrowed  every  thing  else  he  ever  had, 
such  things  as  he  got  under  the  credit  system  only  ex- 
cepted :  in  deference,  however,  to  the  axiom,  that  there  is 
sojne  exception  to  all  general  rules,  I  am  willing  to  believe 
that  he  got  this  much  honestly,  by  bona  fide  gift  or  inherit- 
ance, and  without  false  pretence. 

I  have  had  a  hard  time  of  it  in  endeavoring  to  assign  to 
Eolus  his  leading  vice  :  I  have  given  up  the  task  in  despair ; 
but  I  have  essayed  to  designate  that  one  which  gave  him, 
in  the  end,  most  celebrity.  I  am  aware  that  it  is  invidious 
to  make  comparisons,  and  to  give  pre-eminence  to  one 
over  other  rival  qualities  and  gifts,  where  all  have  high 
claims  to  distinction :  but,  then,  the  stern  justice  of  criti- 
cism, in  this  case,  requires  a  discrimination,  which,  to  be 
intelligible  and  definite,  must  be  relative  and  comparative. 
I,  therefore,  take  the  responsibility  of  saying,  after  due 
reflection,  that  in  my  opinion,  Bolus's  reputation  stood 
higher  for  lying  than  for  any  thing  else  :  and  in  thus  assign- 
ing pre-eminence  to  this  poetic  property,  I  do  it  without 
any  desire  to  derogate  from  other  brilliant  characteristics 
belonging  to  the  same  general  category,  which  have  drawn 
the  wondering  notice  of  the  world. 

Some  men  are  liars  from  interest ;  not  because  they  have 
no  regard  for  truth,  but  because  they  have  less  regard  for  it 
han  for  gain  :  some  are  liars  from  vanity,  because  they  would 
rather  be  well  thought  of  by  others,  than  have  reason  for 
thinking  well  of  themselves  :  some  are  liars  from  a  sort  of 
necessity,  which  overj^ears,  by  the  weight  of  temptation,  the 


OVID    BOLUS,   ESQ.  3 

sense  of  virtue :  some  are  enticed  away  by  the  allure- 
ments of  pleasure,  or  seduced  by  evil  example  and  education. 
Bolus  was  none  of  these  :  he  belonged  to  a  higher  department 
of  the  fine  arts,  and  to  a  higher  class  of  professors  of  this 
sort  of  Belles- Lettres.  Bolus  was  a  natural  liar,  just  a. 
some  horses  are  natural  pacers,  and  some  dogs  natural  set- 
ters. What  he  did  in  that  walk,  was  {wm.  the  irresistible 
promptings  of  instinct,  and  a  disinterested  love  of  art.  His 
genius  and  his  performances  were  free  from  the  vulgar  alloy 
of  interest  or  temptation.  Accordingly,  he  did  not  labor  a 
lie :  he  lied  with  a  relish :  he  lied  with  a  coming  appetite, 
growing  with  what  it  fed  on :  he  lied  from  the  delight  of  in- 
vention and  the  charm  of  fictitious  narrative.  It  is  true  he 
applied  his  art  to  the  practical  purposes  of  life ;  but  in  so  far 
did  he  glory  the  more  in  it ;  just  as  an  ingenious  machinist 
rejoices  that  his  invention,  while  it  has  honored  science,  has 
also  supplied  a  common  want. 

Bolus's  genius  for  lying  was  encyclopediacal :  it  was  what 
German  criticism  calls  many-sided.  It  embraced  all  subjects 
without  distinction  or  partiality.  It  was  equally  good  upon 
all,  "  from  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe." 

Bolus's  lying  came  from  his  greatness  of  soul  and  his 
'  comprehensiveness  of  mind.  The  truth  was  too  small  for 
him.  Fact  was  too  dry  and  common-place  for  the  fervor  of 
his  genius.  Besides,  great  as  was  his  memory — for  he  even 
remembered  the  outlines  of  his  chief  lies — his  invention  was 
still  larger.  He  had  a  great  contempt  for  history  and  histo- 
rians.    He  thought  them  tame  and  timid  cobblers;  mere 


*  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

tinkers  on  other  people's  wares, — simple  parrots  and  magpies 
of  other  men's  sayings  or  doings ;  borrowers  of  and  acknow^l- 

m 

edged  debtors  for  others'  chattels,  got  without  skill ;  they  had 
no  separate  estate  in  their  ideas :  they  were  bailees  of  goods, 
w^hich  they  did  not  pretend  to  hold  by  adverse  title ;  buriers 
of  talents  in  napkins  making  no  usury ;  barren  and  unprofita- 
ble non-producers  in  the  intellectual  vineyard — nati  consu- 
onere  friiges. 

He  adopted  a  fact  occasionally  to  start  with,  but,  like  a 
Sheffield  razor  and  the  crude  ore,  the  workmanship,  polish 
and  value  were  all  his  own :  a  Thibet  shawl  could  as  well  be 
credited  to  the  insensate  goat  that  grew  the  wool,  as  the  au- 
thor of  a  fact  Bolus  honored  with  his  artistical  skill,  could 
claim  to  be  the  inventor  of  the  story. 

His  experiments  upon  credulity,  like  charity,  began  at 
home.  He  had  long  torn  down  the  partition  wall  between 
his  imagination  and  his  memory.  He  had  long  ceased  to 
distinguish  between  the  impressions  made  upon  his  niind  by 
w^hat  C2imef/077i  it,  and  what  came  to  it :  all  ideas  were  facts 
to  him. 

Bolus's  life  was  not  a  common  man's  life.  His  world 
was  not  the  hard,  work-day  world  the  groundlings  live  in  : 
he  moved  in  a  sphere  of  poetry  :  he  lived  amidst  the  ideal 
and  romantic.  N.ot  that  he  was  not  practical  enough,  when 
he  chose  to  be  :  by  no  means.  He  bought  goods  and  chat 
tels,  lands  and  tenements,  like  other  men  ;  but  he  got  them 
under  a  state  of  poetic  illusion,  and  paid  for  them  in  an  im- 
aginary way.     Even  the  titles  he  gave  were  not  of  the  earth?/ 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  5 

sort — they  were  sometimes  clouded.  He  gave  notes,  too, — 
how  well  I  know  it ! — like  other  men ;  he  paid  them  like 
himself. 

How  well  he  asserted  the  Spiritual  over  the  Material ! 
How  he  delighted  to  turn  an  abstract  idea  into  concrete  cash 
— to  make  a  few  blots  of  ink,  representing  a  little  thought, 
turn  out  a  labor-saving  machine,  and  bring  into  his  pocket 
money  which  many  days  of  hard  exhausting  labor  would  not 
procure  !  What  pious  joy  it  gave  him  to  see  the  days  of 
the  good  Samaritan  return,  and  the  hard  hand  of  avarice  re- 
lax its  grasp  on  Lind  and  negroes,  pork  and  clothes,  beneath 
the  soft  speeches  and  kind  promises  of  future  rewards — 
blending  in  the  act  the  three  cardinal  virtues,  Faith,  Hope, 
and  Charity ;  while,  in  the  result,  the  chief  of  these  three 
was  Charity  I 

There  was  something  sublime  in  the  idea — this  elevat- 
ing the  spirit  of  man  to  its  true  and  primeval  dominion 
over  things  of  sense  and  grosser  matter. 

It  is  true,  that  in  these  practical  romances,  Bolus  was 
charged  with  a  defective  taste  in  repeating  himself  The 
justice  of  the  charge  must  be,  at  least,  partially  acknowledg- 
ed :  this  I  know  from  a  client,  to  whom  Ovid  sold  a  tract  of 
land  after  having  sold  it  twice  before  :  I  cannot  say,  though, 
that  his  forgetting  to  mention  this  circumstance  maae  any 
difference,  for  Bolus  originally  had  no  title. 

There  was  nothing  narrow,  sectarian,  or  sectional,  in 
Bolus's  lying.  It  was  on  the  contrary  broad  and  catholic. 
It  had  no  respect  to  times  or  places.     It  was  as  wide,  illimit- 


b  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

able,  as  elastic  and  variable  as  the  air  he  spent  in  giving 
it  expression.  It  was  a  generous,  gentlemanly,  whole- 
souled  faculty.  It  was  often  employed  on  occasions  of 
thrift,  but  no  more;  and  no  more,  zealously  on  these 
than  on  others  of  no  profit  to  himself.  He  was  an 
Egotist,  but  a  magnificent  one  ;  he  was  not  a  liar  be- 
cause an  egotist,  but  an  egotist  because  a  liar.  He  usually 
made  himself  the  hero  of  the  romantic  exploits  and  adven- 
tures he  narrated  ;  but  this  was  not  so  much  to. exalt  him- 
self, as  because  it  was  more  convenient  to  his  art.  He  had 
nothing  malignant  or  invidious  in  his  natuipe.  If  he  exalted 
himself,  it  was  seldom  or  never  to  the  disparagement  of  oth- 
ers, unless,  indeed,  those  others  were  merely  imaginary  per- 
sons,  or  too  far  ofi"  to  be  hurt.  He  would  as  soon  lie  for 
you  as  for  himself  It  was  all  the  same,  so  there  was  some- 
thing doing  in  his  line  of  business,  except  in  those  cases  in 
which  his  necessities  required  to  be  fed  at  your  expense. 

He  did  not  confine  himself  to  mere  lingual  lying :  one 
tongue  was  not  enough  for  all  the  business  he  had  on  hand. 
He  acted  lies  as  well.  Indeed,  sometimes  his  very  silence 
was  a  lie.  He  made  nonentity  fib  for  him,  and  performed 
wondrous  feats  by  a  ^'masterly  inactivity." 

The  2^(^'f' ^0)171  cl  of  this  distiDguished  Votary  of  the  Muse, 
was  happily  fitted  to  his  art.  He  was  strikingly  handsome. 
There  was  something  in  his  air  and  bearing  almost  princely, 
certainly  quite  distinguished.  His  manners  were  winning, 
his  address  frank,  cordial  and  flowing.  He  was  built  after 
the  model  and  structure  of  Bolingbroke  in  his  youth,  Ameri 


OVID    BOLUS,   ESQ.  7 

canized  and  Hoosierized  a  little  by  a  ^^  raising  in,"  and  an 
adaptation  to,  the  Backwoods.  He  was  fluent  but  choice  of 
diction,  a  little  sonorous  in  the  structure  of  his  sentences  to 
give  effect  to  a  voice  like  an  organ.  His  countenance  was 
open  and  engaging,  usually  sedate  of  expression,  but  capable 
of  any  modifications  at  the  shortest  notice.  Add  to  this  his 
intelligence,  shrewdness,  tact,  humor,  and  that  he  was  a  ready 
debater  and  elegant  declaimer,  and  had  the  gift  of  bringing 
out,  to  the  fullest  extent,  his  resources,  and  you  may  see  that 
Ovid,  in  a  new  country,  was  a  man  apt  to  make  no  mean  im- 
pression. He  drew  the  loose  population  around  him,  as  the 
magnet  draws  iron  filings.  He  was  the  man  for  the  ^'  boys," 
— then  a  numerous  and  influential  class.  His  generous  pro- 
fusion and  free-handed  manner  impressed  them  as  the  bounty 
of  Caesar  the  loafing  commonalty  of  Rome :  Bolus  was  no 
niggard.  He  never  higgled  or  chaffered  about  small  things. 
He  was  as  free  with  his  own  money — if  he  ever  had  any  of 
his  own — as  with  yours.  If  he  never  paid  borrowed  money, 
he  never  asked  payment  of  others.  If  you  wished  him  to  lend 
you  any,  he  would  give  you  a  handful  without  counting  it : 
if  you  handed  him  any,  you  were  losing  time  in  counting  it, 
for  you  never  saw  any  thing  of  it  again :  Shallow's  funded 
debt  on  Falstaff  were  as  safe  an  investment :  this  would  have 
been  an  equal  commerce,  but,  unfortunately  for  Bolus's  friends, 
the  proportion  between  his  disbursements  and  receipts  was 
something  scant.  Such  a  spendthrift  never  made  a  track 
even  in  the  flush  times  of  1836.  It  took  as  much  to  support 
him  as  a  first  class  steamboat.     His  bills  at  the  groceries 


b  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

were  as  long  as  Jolin  Q.  Adams-  Abolition  petition,  or,  if 
pasted  together,  would  have  matched  the  great  Chartist  me- 
morial. He  would  as  soon  treat  a  regiment  or  charter  the 
grocery  for  the  day,  as  any  other  way ;  and  after  the  crowd 
had  heartily  drank — some  of  them  "  laying  their  souls  in 
soak," — if  he  did  n(ft  have  the  money  convenient — as  when 
did  he  ? — he  would  fumble  in  his  pocket,  mutter  something 
about  nothing  less  than  a  $100  bill,  and  direct  the  score,  with 
a  lordly  familiarity,  to  be  charged  to  his  account. 

Ovid  had  early  possessed  the  faculty  of  ubiquity.  He 
had  been  born  in  more  places  than  Homer.  In  an  hour^s  dis- 
course, he  would,  with  more  than  the  speed  of  Ariel,  travel 
at  every  point  of  the  compass,  from  Portland  to  San  Antonio, 
some  famous  adventure  always  occurring  just  as  he  ^'  rounded 
to,"  or  while  stationary,  though  he  did  not  remain  longer 
than  to  see  it.  He  was  present  at  every  important  debate 
in  the  Senate  at  Washington,  and  had  heard  every  popular 
speaker  on  the  hustings,  at  the  bar  and  in  the  pulpit,  in  the 
United  States.  He  had  been  concerned  in  many  important 
causes  with  Grymes  and  against  Mazereau  in  New  Orleans, 
and  had  borne  no  small  share  in  the  fierce  forensic  battles, 
which,  with  singular  luck,  he  and  Grymes  always  won  in  the 
courts  of  the  Crescent  City.  And  such  frolics  as  they  had 
when  they  laid  aside  their  heavy  armor,  after  the  heat  and 
burden  of  the  day  !  Such  gambling !  A  negro  a?ite  and 
twenty  on  the  call,  was  moderate  playing.  What  lots  of 
'*  Ethiopian  captives"  and  other  plunder  he  raked  clown 
vexed  Arithmetic  to  count  and  credulity  to  believe ;  and,  had 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  .  9 

it  not  been  for  Bolus's  generosity  in  giving  '^  tlie  boys  "  a 
chance  to  win  back  hy  doitbling  off  on*  the  high  hand^  tliere 
is  no  knowing  what  changes  of  owners  would  not  have  oc- 
curred in  the  Eapides  or  on  the  German  Coast. 

The  Florida  war  and  the  Texas  Revolution,  had  each  fur- 
nished a  brilliant  theatre  for  Ovid's  chivalrous  emprise.  Jack 
Hays  and  he  were  great  chums.  Jack  and  he  had  many  a 
hearty  laugh  over  the  odd  trick  of  Ovid,  in  lassoing  a  Ca- 
manche  Chief,  while  galloping  a  stolen. horse  bare-backed,  up 
the  San  Saba  hills.  But  he  had  the  rig  on  Jack  again,  when 
he  made  him  charge  on  a  brood  of  about  twenty  Camanches, 
who  had  got  into  a  mot  of  timber  in  the  prairies,  and  were 
buooting  their  arrows  from  the  covert,  Ovid,  with  a  six-bar- 
relled rifle,  taking  them  on  the  wing  as  Jack  rode  in  and 
flushed  them  ! 

It  was  an  affecting  stoi*^  and  feelingly  told,  that  of  his 
and  Jim  Bowie's  rescuing  an  American  girl  from  the  Apaches, 
and  returning  her  to  her  parents  in  St.  Louis ;  and  it  would 
have  been  still  moro.  tender,  had  it  not  been  for  the  unfortu- 
nate necessity  Bolus  was  under  of  shooting  a  brace  of  gay 
lieutenants  on  the  border,  one  frosty  morning,  before  break- 
fast, back  of  the  fort,  for  taking  unbecoming  liberties  with  the 
fair  damosel,  the  spoil  of  his  bow  and  spear. 

But  the  girls  Ovid  courted,  and  the  miraculous  adven- 
tures he  had  met  with  in  love  beggared  by  the  comparison, 
all  the  fortune  of  war  had  done  for  him.  Old  Nugent 's 
daughter,  Sallie,  was  his  narrowest  escape.  Sallie  was  accom- 
plished to  the  romantic  extent  of  two  ocean  steamers,  and 
1* 


10  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

four  bloclvs  of  buildings  in  Boston,  separated  only  from  im- 
mediate ''  perception  and  pernancy,"  by  the  contingency  of 
old  Nugent's  recovering  from  a  confirmed  dropsy,  for  which 
he  had  been  twice  ineffectually  tapped.  The  day  was  set — 
the  presents  made — superb  of  course — the  guests  invited  : 
the  old  Sea  Captain  insisted  on  Bolus's  setting  his  negroes 
free,  and  taking  five  thousand  dollars  apiece  for  the  loss. 
Bolus's  love  for  the  "peculiar  institution"  wouldn't  stand  it. 
Rather  than  submit  to  such  degradation,  Ovid  broke  off  the 
match,  and  left  Sallie  broken-hearted ;  a  disease  from  which 
she  did  not  recover  until  about  six  months  afterwards,  when 
she  ran  off  with  the  mate  of  her  father's  ship,  the  Sea  Serpent, 
in  the  Bio  trade. 

Gossip  and  personal  anecdote  were  the  especial  subjects 
of  Ovid's  elocution.  He  was  intimate  with  all  the  notabili- 
ties of  the  political  circles.  He  was  a  privileged  visitor  of 
the  political  green-room.  He  was  admitted  back  into  the 
laboratory  where  the  political  thunder  was  manufactured,  and 
into  the  office  where  the  magnetic  wires  were  worked.  He 
knew  the  origin  of  every  party  question  and  movement,  and 
had  a  finger  in  every  pie  the  party  cooks  of  Tammany  baked 
for  the  body  politic. 

One  thing  in  Ovid  I  can  never  forgive.  This  was  his 
coming  it  over  poor  Ben.  I  don't  object  to  it  on  the  score 
of  the  swindle.  That  was  to  have  been  expected.  But  swin- 
dling Ben  was  degrading  the  dignity  of  the  art.  True,  it  il- 
lustrated the  universality  of  his  science,  but  it  lowered  it  to 
a  beggarly  process  of  mean  deception.     There  was  no  skill 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  11 

in  it.  It  was  little  better  than  crude  larceny.  A  child  could 
have  done  it ;  it  had  as  well  been  done  to  a  child.  It  was 
like  catching  a  cow  with  a  lariat,  or  setting  a  steel  trap  for  a 
pet  pig.  True,  Bolus  had  nearly  practised  out  of  custom. 
He  had  worn  his  art  threadbare.  Men,  who  could  afford  to 
be  cheated,  had  all  been  worked  up  or  been  scared  away.  Be- 
ides.  Frost  couldn't  be  put  off.  He  talked  of  money  in  a 
most  ominous  connection  with  blood.  The  thing  could  be 
settled  by  a  bill  of  exchange.  Ben's  name  was  unfortunately 
good — the  amount  some  $1,600.     Ben  had  a  fine  tract  of 

land  in  S r.     He  has  not  got  it  now.     Bolus  only  gave 

Ben  one  wrench — that  was  enough.  Ben  never  breathed 
easy  afterwards.  All  the  V's  and  X's  of  ten  years'  hard 
practice,  went  in  that  penful  of  ink.  Fie !  Bolus,  Monroe 
Edwards  wouldn't  have  done  that.  He  would  sooner  have 
sunk  down  to  the  level  of  some  honest  calling  for  a  living, 
than  have  put  his  profession  to  so  mean  a  shift.  I  can  con- 
ceive of  but  one  extenuation;  Bolus  was. on  the  lift  for  Tex- 
as, and  the  desire  was  natural  to  qualify  himself  for  citizen- 
ship. 

The  genius  of  Bolus,  strong  in  its  unassisted  strength, 
yet  gleamed  out  more  brilliantly  under  the  genial  influence 
of  '^  the  rosy."  With  boon  companions  and  " reaming  suats," 
it  was  worth  while  to  hear  him  of  a  winter  evening.  He 
could  "  gild  the  palpable  and  the  familiar,  with  golden  exha- 
lations of  the  dawn."  The  most  common-place  objects  be- 
came dignified.  There  was  a  history  to  the  commonest  arti- 
cles about  him  :  that  book  was  given  him  by  Mr.  Van  Bureu 


12  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

— the  walking  stick  was  a  present  from  Gen.  Jackson :  the 
thrice-watered  Monongahela,  just  drawn  from  the  grocery 
hard  by,  was  the  Last  of  a  distillation  of  1825,  smuggle  1  in 
from  Ireland,  and  presented  to  him  by  a  friend  in  New  Or- 
leans, on  easy  terms  with  the  collector ;  the  cigars,  no\  too 
fragrant,  were  of  a  box  sent  him  by  a  schoolmate  from  Cuba, 
in  1834 — before  he  visited  the  Island.  And  talking  of  Cuba 
— he  had  met  with  an  adventure  there,  the  impression  of 
which  never  could  be  effaced  from  his  mind.  He  had  gone, 
at  the  instance  of  Don  Carlos  y  Cubanos,  (an  intimate  class- 
mate in  a  Kentucky  Catholic  College,)  whose  life  he  had 
saved  from  a  mob  in  Louisville,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his 
own.  The  Don  had  a  sister  of  blooming  sixteen,  the  least 
of  whose  charms  was  two  or  three  coffee  plantations,  some 
hundreds  of  slaves,  and  a  suitable  garnish  of  doubloofls,  ac- 
cumulated during  her  minority,  in  the  hands  of  her  uncle  and 
guardian,  the  Captain  General.  All  went  well  with  the  young 
lovers — for  such,  of  course,  they  were — until  Bolus,  with  his 
usual  frank  indiscretion,  in  a  conversation  with  the  Priest, 
avowed  himself  a  Protestant.  Then  came  trouble.  Every 
effort  was  made  to  convert  him;  but  Bolus's  faith  resisted 
the  eloquent  tongue  of  the  Priest,  and  the  more  eloquent  eyes 
of  Donna  Isabella.  The  brother  pleaded  the  old  friendship 
— urged  a  seeming  and  formal  conformity — the  Captain  Gene- 
ral argued  the  case  like  a  politician — the  Seilorita  like  a  warm 
and  devoted  woman.  All  would  not  do.  The  Captain  Gene- 
ral forbade  his  longer  sojourn  on  the  Island.  Bolus  took 
leave  of  the  fair  Se  nor  it  a  :  the  parting  interview  held  in  the 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  IS 

orange  bower,  was  affecting :  Donna  Isabella,  with  disbevelled 
hair,  threw  herself  at  his  feet ;  the  tears  streamed  from  her 
eyes :  in  liquid  tones,  broken  by  grief,  she  implored  him  to 
relent, — reminded  him  of  her  love,  of  her  trust  in  him,  and 
of  the  consequences — now  not  much  longer  to  be  concealed — 
of  that  love  and  trust ;  (''  though  I  protest,"  Bolus  would 
say,  "  I  don't  know  what  she  meant  exactly  by  that.'''')  "  Gen- 
tlemen," Bolus  continued,  ^'I  confess  to  the  weakness — I  wa- 
vered— but  theft  my  eyes  happened  to  fall  on  the  brea*st-pin 
with  a  lock  of  my  mother's  hair — I  recovered  my  courage  : 
I  shook  her  gently  from  me.  I  felt  my  last  hold  on  earth 
was  loosened — my  last  hope  of  peace  destroyed.  Since  that 
hour,  my  life  has  been  a  burden.  Yes,  gentlemen,  you  see 
before  you  a  broken  man — a  martyr  to  his  E-eligion.  But, 
away  with  these  melancholy  thoughts  :  boys,  pass  around  the 
jorum."  And  wiping  his  eyes,  he  drowned  the  wasting  sor- 
row in  a  long  draught  of  the  poteen ;  and,  being  much  re- 
freshed, was  able  to  carrythe  burden  on  a  little  further, — 
videlicet  J  to  the  next  lie. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Bolus  was  destitute  of  the 
tame  virtue  of  prudence — or  that  this  was  confined  to  the 
avoidance  of  the  improvident  habit  of  squandering  his 
money  in  paying  old  debts.  He  took  reasonably  good  care 
of  his  person.  He  avoided  all  unnecessary  exposures, 
chiefly  from  a  patriotic  desire,  probably,  of  continuing  his 
good  offices  to  his  country.  His  recklessness  was,  for  the 
most  part,  lingual.  To  hear  him  talk,  one  might  suppose 
he  held  his   carcass  merely  for  a   target  to   try  guns   and 


14  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLU^II    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

knives  upon ;  or  that  the  business  of  his  life  was  to  draw 
men  up  to  ten  paces  or  less,  for  sheer  improvement  in  marks- 
manship. Such  exploits  as  he  had  gone  through  with, 
dwarfed  the  heroes  of  romance  to  very  pigmy  and  sneaking 
proportions.  Pistol  at  the  Bridge  when  he  bluffed  at  hon- 
est Fluellen,  might  have  envied  the  swash-buckler  airs,  Ovid 
would  sometimes  put  on.  But  I  never  could  exactly  iden- 
tify the  place  he  had  laid  out  for  his  burying-ground.  In- 
deed, I  had  occasion  to  know  that  he  declined  to  under- 
stand several  not  very  ambiguous  hints,  upon  which  he 
might,  with  as  good  a  grace  as  Othello,  have  spoken,  not  to 
mention  one  or  two  pressing  invitations  which  his  modesty 
led  him  to  refuse.  I  do  not  know  that  the  base  sense  of 
fear  had  any  thing  to  do  with  these  declinations :  possibly 
he  might  have  thought  he  had  done  his  share  of  fighting, 
and  did  not  wish  to  monopolize  :  or  his  principles  forbade  it 
— I  mean  those  which  opposed  his  paying  a  debt :  knowing 
he  could  not  cheat  that  inexorable  creditor,  Death,  of  his 
claim,  he  did  the  next  thing  to  it ;  which  was  to  delay  and 
shirk  payment  as  long  as  possible. 

It  remains  to  add  a  word  of  criticism  on  this  great  Xy. 
ric  artist. 

In  lying.  Bolus  was  not  only  a  successful,  but  he  was  a 
very  able  practitioner.  Like  every  other  eminent  artist,  he 
brought  all  his  faculties  to  bear  upon  his  art.  Though 
quick  of  perception  and  prompt  of  invention,  he  did  not 
trust  himself  to  the  inspirations  of  his  genius  for  improvis 
ing  a  lie,  when  he  could  well  premeditate  one.     He  delibe 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  16 

ratelj  built  up  the  substantial  masonry,  relying  upon  the 
occasion  and  its  accessories,  chiefly  for  embellishment  and 
collateral  supports :  as  Burke  excogitated  the  more  solid 
parts  of  his  great  speeches,  and  left  unprepared  only  the  il- 
lustrations and  fancy-work. 

Bolus's  manner  was,  like  every  truly  great  man's,  his 
own.  It  was  excellent.  He  did  not  come  blushing  up  to  a 
lie,  as  some  otherwise  very  passable  liars  do,  as  if  he  were 
making  a  mean  compromise  between  his  guilty  passion  or 
morbid  vanity,  and  a  struggling  conscience.  Bolus  had  long 
since  settled  all  disputes  with  his  conscience.  He  and  it 
were  on  very  good  terms — at  least,  if  there  was  no  affection 
between  the  couple,  there  was  no  fuss  in  the  family ;  or,  if 
there  were  any  scenes  or  angry  passages,  they  were  reserved 
for  strict  privacy  and  never  got  out.  My  own  opinion  is, 
that  he  was  as  destitute  of  the  article  as  an  ostrich.  Thus 
he  came  to  his  work  bravely,  cheerfully  and  composedly. 
The  delights  of  composition,  invention  and  narration,  did 
not  fluster  his  style  or  agitate  his  delivery.  He  knew  how, 
in  the  tumult  of  passion,  to  assume  the  ''  temperance  to  give 
it  smoothness."  A  lie  never  ran  away  with  him,  as  it  is  apt 
to  do  with  young  performers :  he  could  always  manage  and 
guide  it ;  and  to  have  seen  him  fairly  mounted,  would  have 
given  you  some  idea  of  the  polished  elegance  of  D'Orsay, 
and  the  superb  man<2^c  of  Murat.  There  is  a  tone  and  man- 
ner of  narration  different  from  those  used  in  delivering  ideas 
just  conceived  ;  just  as  there  is  a  difference  between  the 
sound  of  the  voice  in  reading  and  in  speaking.     Bolus  knew 


16  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

this,  and  practised  on  it.  Wbcn  he  vras  narrating,  he  put 
the  facts  in  order,  and  seemed  to  speak  them  out  of  his 
memory ;  but  not  formally,  or  as  if  by  rote.  He  would  stop 
himself  to  correct  a  date ;  recollect  he  was  wrong — he  was 
that  year  at  the  White  Sulphur  or  Saratoga,  &c.  :  having 
got  the  date  right,  the  names  of  persons  present  would  be 
incorrect,  &c. :  and  these  he  corrected  in  turn.  A  stranger 
hearing  him,  would  have  feared  the  marring  of  a  good  story 
by  too  fastidious  a  conscientiousness  in  the  narrator. 

His  zeal  in  pursuit  of  a  lie  under  difficulties,  was  re- 
markable. The  society  around  him — if  such  it  could  be 
called — was  hardly  fitted,  without  some  previous  prepara- 
tion, for  an  immediate  introduction  to  Almack's  or  the  clas- 
sic precincts  of  Gore  House.  The  manners  of  the  natives 
were  rather  plain  than  ornate,  and  candor  rather  than  polish, 
predominated  in  their  conversation.  Bolus  had  ^need  of 
some  forbearance  to  withstand  the  interruptions  and  cross- 
examinations,  with  which  his  revelations  were  sometimes  re- 
ceived. But  he  possessed  this  in  a  remarkable  degree;  I 
recollect,  on  one  occasion,  when  he  was  giving  an  account  of 
a  providential  escape  he  was  signally  favored  with,  (when 
boarded  by  a  pirate  off  the  Isle  of  Pines,  and  he  pleaded  ma- 
sonry, and  gave  a  sign  he  had  got  out  of  the  Disclosures  of 
Morgan,)  Tom  Johnson  interrupted  him  to  say  that  he  had 
heard  that  before,  (which  was  more  than  Bolus  had  ever 
done.)  B.  immediately  rejoined,  that  he  had,  he  believed, 
given  him,  Tom,  a  running  sketch  of  the  incident.  ''  Ba- 
ther," said  Tom,  "  I  think,  a  lying  sketch."     Bolus  scarcely 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  17 

smiled,  as  lie  replied,  that  Tom  was  a  wag,  and  couldn't  help 
turning  the  most  serious  things  into  jests ;  and  went  on  with 
his  usual  brilliancy,  to  finish  the  narrative.  Bolus  did  not 
overcrowd  his  canvas.  His  figures  were  never  confused, 
and  the  subordinates  and  accessories  did  not  withdraw  at- 
tention from  the  main  and  substantive  lie.  He  never  squan- 
dered his  lies  profusely  :  thinking,  with  the  poet,  thai 
''  bounteous,  not  prodigal,  is  kind  Nature's  hand,"  he  kept 
the  golden  mean  between  penuriousness  and  prodigality  ; 
never  stingy  of  his  lies,  he  was  not  wasteful  of  them,  but 
was  rather  forehanded  than  pushed,  or  embarrassed,  having, 
usually,  fictitious  stock  to  be  freshly  put  on  'change,  when 
he  wished  to  "  make  a  raise."  In  most  of  his  fables,  he  in- 
culcated but  a  single  leading  idea ;  but  contrived  to  make 
the  several  facts  of  the  narrative  fall  in  very  gracefully  with 
the  principal  scheme. 

The  rock  on  which  many  promising  young  liars,  who 
might  otherwise  have  risen  to  merited  distinction,  have  split, 
is  vanity :  this  marplot  vice  betrays  itself  in  the  exultation 
manifested  on  the  occasion  of  a  decided  hit,  an  exultation 
too  inordinate  for  mere  recital,  and  which  betrays  author- 
ship ;  and  to  betray  authorship,  in  the  present  barbaric, 
moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  the  world  is  fatal.  True, 
there  seems  to  be  some  inconsistency  here.  Dickens  and  BuU 
wer  can  do  as  much  lying,  for  money  too,  as  they  choose,  and 
no  one  blame  them,  any  more  than  they  would  blame  a  law- 
yer regularly /6?e'<i  to  do  it;  but  let  any  man,  gifted  with  the 
same  genius,  try  his  hand  at  it,  not  deliberately  and  in  writ 


18  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ingj  but  merely  orally,  and  ugly  names  are  given  him,  and 
he  is  proscribed !  Bolus  heroically  suppressed  exultation 
over  the  victories  his  lies  achieved. 

Alas  !  for  the  beautiful  things  of  Earth,  its  flowers,  its 
sunsets — its  lovely  girls — its  lies — brief  and  fleeting  are 
their  date.  Lying, is  a  very  delicate  accomplishment.  It 
must  be  tenderly  cared  for,  and  jealousy  guarded.  It  must 
not  be  overworked.  Bolus  forgot  this  salutary  caution. 
The  people  found  out  his  art.  However  dull  the  commons 
are  as  to  other  matters,  they  get  sharp  enough  after  a  while, 
to  whatever  concerns  their  bread  and  biitter.  Bolus  not 
having  confined  his  art  to  political  matters,  sounded,  at  last, 
the  depths,  and  explored  the  limits  of  popular  credulity. 
The  denizens  of  this  degenerate  age,  had  not  the  disinterest- 
edness of  Prince  Hal,  who  ''  cared  not  how  many  fed  at  his 
cost ;''  they  got  tired,  at  last,  of  promises  to  pay.  The 
credit  system,  common  before  as  pump-water,  adhering,  like 
the  elective  franchise  to  every  voter,  began  to  take  the 
worldly  wisdom  of  Falstaff's  mercer,  and  ask  security ;  and 
security  liked  something  more  substantial  than  plausible 
promises.  In  this  forlorn  condition  of  the  country,  return- 
ing to  its  savage  gtate,  and  abandoning  the  refinements  of  a 
ripe  Anglo-Saxon  civilization  for  the  sordid  safety  of  Mex- 
ican or  Chinese  modes  of  traffic  ;  deserting  the  sweet  sim- 
plicity of  its  ancient  trustingness  and  the  poetic  illusions  of 
Auorustus  Tomlinson,  for  the  vulgar  saws  of  poor  Bichard 
— Bolus,  with  a  sigh  like  that  breathed  out  by  his  great  pro- 
totype after  his   apostrophe  to    London,  gathered  up,  one 


OVID    BOLUS,  ESQ.  19 

bright  moonlight  night,  his  articles  of  value,  shook  the  dust 
from  his  feet,  and  departed  from  a  land  unworthy  of  his 
longer  sojourn.  With  that  delicate  consideration  for  the  feel- 
ings of  his  friends,  which,  like  the  politeness  of  Charles  II., 
never  forsook  him,  he  spared  them  the  pain  of  a  parting  in- 
terview. He  left  no  greetings  of  kindness ;  no  messages  of 
love :  nor  did  he  ask  assurances  of  their  lively  remembrance. 
It  was  quite  unnecessary.  In  every  house  he  had  left  an 
autograph,  in  every  ledger  a  souvenir.  They  will  never  for- 
get him.     Their  connection  with  him  will  be  ever  regarded 

as 

"  The  greenest  spot 

In  memory's  waste." 

Poor  Ben,  whom  he  had  honored  with  the  last  marks  of 
his  confidence,  can  scarcely  speak  of  him  to  this  day,  with- 
out tears  in  his  eyes.  Far  away  towards  the  setting  sun  he 
hied  him,  until,  at  last,  with  a  hermit's  disgust  at  the  degra- 
dation of  the  world,  like  Ignatius  turned  monk,  he  pitched 
his  tabernacle  amidst  the  smiling  prairies  that  sleep  in  ver- 
nal beauty,  in  the  shadow  of  the  San  Saba  mountains.  There 
let  his  mighty  genius  rest.  It  has  earned  repose.  We  leave 
Themistocles  to  his  voluntary  exile. 


20  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


MY  FIRST   APPEARANCE  AT  THE  BAR 

HiGGINEOTHAM  ^ 

^^5.  >  Slander, 

SwiNK.  ) 

Did  jou  ever,  reader,  get  a  merciless  barrister  of  the  old 
school  after  you  when  you  were  on  your  first  legs — in  the 
callow  tenderness  of  your  virgin  epidermis  ?  I  hope  not.  I 
wish  I  could  say  the  same  for  myself;  but  I  cannot:  and 
with  the  faint  hope  of  inspiring  some  small  pity  in  the 
breasts  of  the  seniors,  I,  now  one  of  them  myself,  give  in 
my  lively  experience  of  what  befell  me  at  my  first  appear- 
ance on  the  forensic  boards. 

I  must  premise  by  observing  that,  some  twenty  years 
ago — more  or  less — shortly  after  I  obtained  license  to  j)rac- 
tise  law  in  the  town  of  H ,  State  of  Alabama,  an  un- 
fortunate client  called  at  my  office  to  retain  my  services  in 
a  celebrated  suit  for  slander.  The  case  stands  on  record, 
Stephen  O.  Higginhotham  vs.  Caleb  Sivink.  The  afore- 
said Caleb,  ''  greatly  envying  the  happy  state  and  condition 
of  said  Stephen,"  who,  "until  the  grievances,"  &c.,  '^  never 
had  been  suspected  of  the  crime  of  hog-stealing,"  &c.,  said, 


MY    FIRST    ArPEARANCE    AT    THE    EAR.  21 

"  in  the  heariDg  and  presence  of  one  Samuel  Eads  and  other 
good  and  worthy  citizens,"  of  and  concerning  the  plaintiff, 
"  you"  (the  said   Stephen  meanii^g)  "  are  a  noted  hog  thief, 

and   stole  more   hogs  than  all  the  wagons  in  M could 

haul  off  in  a  week  on  a  turnpike  road."  The  way  I  came  t 
be  employed  was  this  :  Higginbotham  had  retained  Frank 
Glendye,  a  great  brick  in  "  damage  cases,"  to  bring  the  suit, 
and  G.  had  prepared  the  papers,  and  got  the  case  on  the 
pleadings,  ready  for  trial.  But,  while  the  case  was  getting 
ready,  Frank  was  suddenly  taken  dangerously  drunk,  a  dis- 
ease to  which  his  constitution  was  subject.  The  ca&e  had  been 
continued  for  several  terms,  and  had  been  set  for  a  particu- 
lar day  of  the  term  then  going  on,  to  be  disposed  of  finally 
and  positively  when  called.  It  was  hoped  that  the  lawyer 
would  recover  his  health  in  time  to  prosecute  the  case ;  but 
he  had  continued  the  drunken  fit  with  the  suit.  The  morn- 
ing of  the  trial  came  on ;  and,  on  going  to  see  his  counsel, 
the  client  found  him  utterly  prostrate  ;  not  a  hope  remained 
of  his  being  able  to  get  to  the  court-house.  He  was  in  col- 
lapse ;  a  perfect  cholera  case.  Passing  down  the  street,  al- 
most in  despair,  as  my  good  or  evil  genius  would  have  it, 
Higginbotham  met  Sam  Hicks,  a  tailor,  whom  I  had  honored 
with  my  patronage  (as  his  books  showed)  for  many  years ; 
and,  as  one  good  turn  deserves  another — a  suit  for  a  suit — 
he,  on  hearing  the  predicament  H.  was  in;  boldly  suggested 
my  name  to  supply  the  place  of  the  fallen  Glendye ;  adding 
certain  assurances  and  encomiums  which  did  infinite  credit 
to  his  friendship  and  his  imagination. 


22  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

I  gathered  from  my  calumniated  client,  as  well  as  I  could, 
the  facts  of  the  case,  and  got  a  young  friend  to  look  me  up 
the  law  of  slander,-  to  be  ready  when  it  should  be  put 
through,  if  it  ever  did  get  to  the  jury. 

The  defendant  was  represented  by  old  Caesar  Kasm,  a 
famous  man  in  those  days;  and  well  might  he  be.     This 

venerable  limb  of  the  law  had  long  practised  at  the  M 

bar,  and  been  the  terror  of  this  generation.  He  was  an  old- 
time  lawyer,  the  race  of  which  is  now  fortunately  extinct,  or 
else  the  survivors  ^'  lag  superfluous  on  the  stage."  He  was 
about  sixty-five  years  old  at  the  time  I  am  writing  of;  was 
of  stout  build,  and  something  less  than  six  feet  in  height. 
He  dressed  in  the  old-fashioned  fair-top  boots  and  shotts  ; 
ruffled  shirt,  buff  vest,  and  hair,  a  grizzly  gray,  roached  up 
flat  and  stiff  in  front,  and  hanging  down  in  a  queue  behind, 
tied  with  an  eel-skin  and  pomatumed.  He  was  close  shaven 
and  powdered  every  morning ;  and,  except  a  few  scattering 
grains  of  snuff  which  fell  occasionally  between  his  nose  and 
an  old-fashioned  gold  snuff-box,  a  speck  of  dirt  was  never 
seen  on  or  about  his  carefully  preserved  person.  The  tak- 
ing out  of  his  deliciously  perfumed  handkerchief,  scattered 
incense  around  like  the  shaking  of  a  lilac  bush  in  full  flower. 
His  face  was  round,  and  a  sickly  florid,  interspersed  with 
purple  spots,  overspread  it,  as  if  the  natural  dye  of  the  old 
cogniac  were  maintaining  an  unequal  contest  with  the  decay 
of  the  vital  energies.  His  bearing  was  decidedly  soldierly,  as 
it  had  a  right  to  be,  he  having  served  as  a  captain  some  eight 
years  before  he  took  to  the  bar,  as  being  the  more  pugna- 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  23 

cious  profession.  His  features,  especially  the  mouth,  turned 
down  at  the  corners  like  a  bull-dog's  or  a  crescent,  and  a 
nose  perked  up  with  unutterable  scorn  and  self-conceit,  and 
eyes  of  a  sensual,  bluish  gray,  that  seemed  to  be  all  light 
and  no  heat,  were  never  pleasing  to  the  opposing  side.  In 
his  way,  old  Kasm  was  a  very  polite  man.  Whenever  he 
chose,  which  was  when  it  was  his  interest,  to  be  polite,  and 
when  his  blood  was  cool  and  he  was  not  trying  a  law  case,  he 
would  have  made  Chesterfield  and  Beau  Brummel  ashamed 
of  themselves.  He  knew  all  the  gymnastics  of  manners, 
and  all  forms  and  ceremonies  of  deportment;  but  there  was 
no  more  soul  or  kindness  in  the  manual  he  went  through, 
than  in  an  iceberg.  His  politeness,  however  seemingly 
deferential,  had  a  frost-bitten  air,  as  if  it  had  lain  out  over 
night  and  got  the  rheumatics  'before  it  came  in  ;  and  really, 
one  felt  less  at  ease  under  his  frozen  smiles,  than  under  any 
body  else's  frowns. 

He  was  the  proudest  man  I  ever  saw :  he  would  have 
made  the  Warwicks  and  the  Nevilles,  not  to  say  the  Plan- 
tagenets  or  Mr.  Dombey,  feel  very  limber  and  meek  if  in- 
troduced into  their  company ;  and  selfish  to  that  extent,  that, 
if  by  giving  up  the  nutmeg  on  his  noon  glass  of  toddy,  he 
could  have  christianized  the  Burmese  empire,  millennium 
never  would  come  for  him. 

How  far  back  he  traced  his  lineage,  I  do  not  remember, 
but  he  had  the  best  blood  of  both  worlds  in  his  veins ;  sired 
high  up  on  the  paternal  side  by  some  Prince  or  Duke,  and 
dammed  on  the  mother's  by  one  or  two  Pocahontases.     Of 


24  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

course,  from  this,  he  was  a  Yirginian,  and  the  only  one  7 
ever  knew  that  did  not  quote  those  Eleusinian  mysteries 
the  Resolutions  of  1798-99.  He  did  not.  He  was  a  Fed- 
eralist, and  denounced  Jefferson  as  a  low-flung  demagogue; 
and  Madison  as  his  tool.  He  bragged  largely  on  Yirginia, 
though — he  was  not  eccentric  on  this  point — but  it  was  the 
Virginia  of  Washington,  the  Lees,  Henry,  &c.,  of  which  he 
boasted.  The  old  dame  may  take  it  as  a  compliment  that 
he  bragged  of  her  at  all. 

The  old  Captain  had  a  few  negroes,  which,  with  a  de- 
clining practice,  furnished  him  a  support.  His  credit,  in 
consequence  of  his  not  having  paid  any  thing  in  the  shape 
of  a  debt  for  something  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
was  rather  limited.  The  property  was  covered  up  by  a  deed 
or  other  instrument,  drawn  up  by  Kasm  himself,  with  such 
infernal  artifice  and  diabolical  skill,  that  all  the  lawyers  in 
the  county  were  not  able  to  decide,  by  a  legal  construction 
of  its  various  clauses,  whom  the  negroes  belonged  to,  or 
whether  they  belonged  to  any  body  at  all. 

He  was  an  inveterate  opponent  of  new  laws,  new  books, 
new  men.  He  would  have  revolutionized  the  government 
if  he  could,  should  a  law  have  been  passed,  curing  defects 
in  Indictments. 

Yet  he  was  a  friend  of  strong  government  and  strong 
laws :  he  might  approve  of  a  law  making  it  death  for  a  man 
to  blow  his  nose  in  the  street,  but  would  be  for  rebelling  if 
it  allowed  the  indictment  to  dispense  with  stating  in  which 
hand  he  held  it. 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  25 

This  eminent  barrister  was  brought  up  at  a  time  when 
zeal  for  a  client  was  one  of  the  chief  virtues  of  a  lawyer — 
the  client  standing  in  the  place  of  truth,  justice  and  decen- 
cy, and  monopolizing  the  respect  due  to  alh  He,  therefore, 
went  into  all  causes  with  equal  zeal  and  confidence,  and  took 
all  points  that  could  be  raised  with  the  same  earnestness, 
and  belabored  them  with  the  same  force.  He  personated 
the  client  just  as  a  great  actor  identifies  himself  with  the 
character  he  represents  on  the  stage. 

The  faculty  he  chiefly  employed  was  a  talent  for  vitupera- 
tion which  would  have  gained  him  distinction  on  any  theatre, 
from  the  village  partisan  press,  down  to  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives itself  He  had  cultivated  vituperation  as  a 
science,  which  was  like  putting  guano  on  the  Mississippi  bot- 
toms, the  natural  fertility  of  his  mind  for  satirical  produc- 
tions was  so  great.  He  was  as  much  fitted  by  temper  as  by 
talent  for  this  sort  of  rhetoric,  especially  when  kept  from 
his  dinner  or  toddy  by  the  trial  of  a  case — then  an  alligator 
whose  digestion  had  been  disturbed  by  the  horns  of  a  billy- 
goat  taken  for  lunch,  was  no  mean  type  of  old  Sar  Kasm 
(as  the  wags  of  the  bar  called  him,  by  nickname,  formed 
by  joining  the  last  syllable  of  his  christian,  or  rather,  hea- 
then name,  to  his  patronymic).  After  a  case  began  to  grow 
interesting,  the  old  fellow  would  get  fully  stirred  up.  He 
grew  as  quarrelsome  as  a  little  bull  terrier.  He  snapped  at 
witnesses,  kept  up  a  constant  snarl  at  the  counsel,  and 
growled,  at  intervals,  at  the  judge,  whom,  whoever  he  was, 
he  considered  as  ex  officio^  his  natural  enemy,  and  so  regard- 


26  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ed  every  thing  got  from  him  as  so  much  wrung  from  an  un 
willing  witness. 

But  his  great  forte  was  in  cross-examining  a  witness.  His 
countenance  was  the  very  expression  of  sneering  incredulity. 
Such  a  look  of  cold,  unsympathizing,  scornful  penetration 
as  gleamed  from  his  eyes  of  ice  and  face  of  brass,  is  not 
often  seen  on  the  human  face  divine.  Scarcely  any  eye 
could  meet  unshrinkingly  that  basilisk  gaze :  it  needed  no 
translation  :  the  language  was  plain :  "  Now  you  are  swear- 
ing to  a  lie,  and  I'll  catch  you  in  it  in  a  minute ;  "  and  then 
the  look  of  surprise  which  greeted  each  new  fact  stated,  as 
if  to  say,  "  I  expected  some  lying,  but  really  this  exceeds 
all  my  expectations.''  The  mock  politeness  with  which  ho 
would  address  a  witness,  was  any  thing  but  encouraging ;  and 
the  officious  kindness  with  which  he  volunteered  to  remind 
him  of  a  real  or  fictitious  embarrassment,  by  asking  him  to 
take  his  time  and  not  to  suffer  himself  to  be  confused,  as 
far  as  possible  from  being  a  relief;  while  the  air  of  triumph 
that  lit  up  his  face  the  while,  was  too  provoking  for  a  saint 
to  endure. 

Many  a  witness  broke  down  under  his  examination,  that 
would  have  stood  the  fire  of  a  masked  battery  unmoved,  and 
many  another,  voluble  and  animated  enough  in  the  opening 
narrative,  "  slunk  his  pitch  mightily,"  when  old  Kasm  put 
him  through  on  the  cross-examination. 

His  last  look  at  them  as  they  left  the  box,  was  an  adver- 
tisement to  come  back,  "  and  they  would  hear  something  to 
t^ieir  advantage ; "  and  if  they  came,  they  heard  it,  if  hu- 
mility i,s  worth  buying  at  such  a  price. 


MY    FIRST    ArPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  27 

How  it  was,  that  in  sucli  a  fighting  country,  old  Kasm 
continued  at  this  dangerous  business,  can  only  be  under- 
stood, by  those  who  know  the  entire  readiness — nay,  eager- 
ness of  the  old  gentleman,  to  do  reason  to  all  serious  in- 
][uirers ; — and  one  or  two  results  which  happened  some  years 
before  the  time  I  am  writing  of,  to  say  nothing  of  some  tra- 
ditions in  the  army,  convinced  the  public,  that  his  practice 
was  as  sharp  at  the  small  sword  as  at  the  cut  and  thrust  of 
professional  digladiation. 

Indeed,  it  was  such  an  evident  satisfaction  to  the  old  fellow 
to  meet  these  emergencies,  which  to  him  were  merely  lively 
episodes  breaking  the  monotony  of  the  profession,  that  his 
enemies,  out  of  spite,  resolutely  refused  to  gratify  him,  or 
answer  the  sneering  challenge  stereotyped  on  his  counte- 
nance. "  Now  if  you  can  do  any  better,  suppose  you  help 
yourself?"  So,  by  common  consent,  he  was  elected  free 
libeller  of  the  bar.  But  it  was  very  dangerous  to  repeat 
after  him. 

When  he  argued  a  case,  you  would  suppose  he  had 
bursted  his  gall-bag — such,  not  vials  but  demijohns,  of  vitu- 
peration as  he  poured  out  with  a  fluency  only  interrupted 
by  a  pause  to  gather,  like  a  tree-frog,  the  venom  sweltering 
under  his  tongue  into  a  concentrated  essence.  He  could 
look  more  sarcasm  than  any  body  else  could  speak  ;  and 
in  his  scornful  gaze,  virtue  herself  looked  like  something 
sneaking  and  contemptible.  He  could  not  arouse  the  nobler 
passions  or  emotions ;  but  he  could  throw  a  wet  blanket  over 
them.     It  took   Frank  Glendye    and   half  a  pint  of  good 


28  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

French  brandy,  to  warm  the  court-house  after  old  Kasm  wj^a 
done  speaking :  but  they  could  do  it. 

My  client  was  a  respectable  butcher :  his  opponent  a 
well-to-do  farmer.  On  getting  to  the  court-house,  I  found 
the  court  in  session.  The  clerk  was  just  reading  the  min- 
utes. My  case — I  can  well  speak  in  the  singular — was  set 
the  first  on  the  docket  for  that  morning.  I  looked  around 
and  saw  old  Kasm,  who  somehow  had  found  out  I  was  in 
the  case,  with  his  green  bag  and  half  a  library  of  old  books 
on  the  bar  before  him.  The  old  fellow  gave  me  a  look  of 
malicious  pleasure — like  that  of  a  hungry  tiger  from  his 
lair,  cast  upon  an  unsuspecting  calf  browsing  near  him.  I 
had  tried  to  put  on  a  bold  face.  I  felt  that  it  would  be 
very  unprofessional  to  let  on  to  my  client  that  I  was  at  all 
scared,  though  my  heart  was  running  down  like  a  jack-screw 
under  a  keavy  wagon.  My  conscience — I  had  not  practised 
it  away  then — was  not  quite  easy.  I  couldn't  help  feeling 
that  it  was  hardly  honest  to  be  leading  my  client,  like  Fal- 
stafi*  his  men,  where  he  was  sure  to  be  peppered.  But  then 
it  was  my  only  chance ;  my  bread  depended  on  it ;  and  I 
reflected  that  the  same  thing  has  to  happen  in  every  lawyer's 
practice.  I  tried  to  arrange  my  ideas  in  form  and  excogi- 
tate a  speech  :  they  flitted  through  my  brain  in  odds  and 
ends.  I  could  neither  think  nor  quit  thinking.  I  would 
lose  myself  in  the  first  twenty  words  of  the  opening  sen- 
tence and  stop  at  a  particle ; — the  trail  run  clean  out.  I 
would  start  it  again  with  no  better  luck :  then  I  thought  a 
moment  of  the  disgrace  of  a  dead  break-down ;  and  then  I 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  29 

would  commence  again  with  "gentlemen  of  tlie  jury,"  &c., 
and  go  on  as  before. 

At  length  the  judge  signed  the  minutes  and  took  up  the 
docket:  '' Special  case — Higginbotham  ^'5.  Swink:  Slander 
Mr.  Glendje  for  plff. ;  Mr.  Kasm  for  deft.  Is  Mr.  G.  in 
court  ?  Call  him,  Sheriff."  The  sheriff  called  three  times. 
He  might  as  well  have  called  the  dead.  No  answer  of 
course  came.  Mr.  Kasm  rose  and  told  the  court  that  he 
was  sorry  his  brother  was  too  much  (stroking  his  chin  and 
looking  down  and  pausing)  indisposed,  or  otherwise  engaged, 
to  attend  the  case ;  but  he  must  insist  on  its  being  disposed  of, 
&c. :  the  court  said  it  should  be.  I  then  spoke  up  (though 
my  voice  seemed  to  me  very  low  down  and  very  hard  to  get 
up),  that  I  had  just  been  spoken  to  in  the  cause :  I  believed 
we  were  ready,  if  the  cause  must  be  then  tried  ;  but  I  should 
much  prefer  it  to  be  laid  over,  if  the  court  would  consent, 
until  the  next  day,  or  even  that  evening.  Kasm  protested  ve- 
hemently against  this;  reminded  the  court  of  its  peremptory 
order ;  referred  to  the  former  proceedings,  and  was  going  on 
to  discuss  the  whole  merits  of  the  case,  when  he  was  interrupt- 
ed by  the  judge,  who,  turning  himself  to  me,  remarked  that 
he  should  be  happy  to  oblige  me,  but  that  he  was  precluded 
by  what  had  happened  :  he  hoped,  however,  that  the  counsel 
on  the  other  sidd  would  extend  the  desired  indulgence ;  to 
which  Kasm  immediately  rejoined,  that  this  was  a  case  in 
which  he  neither  asked  favors  nor  meant  to  give  them.  So 
the  case  had  to  go  on.  Several  members  of  the  bar  had 
their  hats  in  hand,  ready  to  leave  the  room  when  the  case 


30  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

was  called  up ;  but  seeing  that  I  was  in  it  alone,  suffered 
their  curiosity  to  get  the  better  of  other  engagements,  and 
staid  to  see  it  out ;  a  circumstance  which  did  not  diminish 
my  trepidation  in  the  least. 

I  had  the  witnesses  called  up,  posted  my  client  behind 
me  in  the  bar,  and  put  the  case  to  the  jury.  The  defendant 
had  pleaded  justification  and  not  guilty.  I  got  along  pretty 
well,  I  thought,  on  the  proofs.  The  cross-examination  of  old 
Kasm  didn't  seem  to  me  to  hurt  any  thing — though  he 
quibbled,  misconstrued,  and  bullied  mightily;  objected  to 
all  my  questions  as  leading,  and  all  the  witnesses'  answers 
as  irrelevant :  but  the  judge,  who  was  a  very  clever  sort  of  a 
man,  and  who  didn't  like  Kasm  much,  helped  me  along  and 
over  the  bad  places,  occasionally  taking  the  examination 
himself  when  old  Kasm  had  got  the  statements  of  the  wit- 
ness in  a  fog. 

I  had  a  strong  case  ;  the  plaintiff  showed  a  good  charac- 
ter :  that  the  lodge  of  Masons  had  refused  to  admit  him  to 
fellowship  until  he  could  clear  up  these  charges :  that  the 
Methodist  Church,  of  which  he  was  a  class-leader,  had  re- 
quired of  him  to  have  these  charges  judicially  settled :  that 
he  had  offered  to  satisfy  the  defendant  that  they  were  false, 
and  proposed  to  refer  it  to  disinterested  men,  and  to  be  sat- 
isfied— if  they  decided  for  him — to  receive  a  written  retrac- 
tion, in  which  the  defendant  should  only  declare  he  was  mis- 
taken ;  that  the  defendant  refused  this  proffer  and  reiterated 
the  charges  with  increased  bitterness  and  aggravated  insultj 
that  the  plaintiff  had  suffered  in  reputation  and  credit; 
that  the  defendant  dechxred   he  meant  to  run  him  off  and 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  31 

buy  liis  land  at  his  (defendant's)  own  price ;  and  that  de- 
fendant was  rich,  and  often  repeated  his  slanders  at  public 
meetings,  and  once  at  the  church  door,  and  finally  noio  jus- 
tified. 

The  defendant's  testimony  was  weak  :  it  did  not  contro- 
vert the  proof  as  to  the  speaking  of  the  words,  or  the  mat- 
ters of  aggravation.  Many  witnesses  were  examined  as  to 
the  character  of  the  plaintiff;  but  those  against  us  only  re- 
ferred to  what  they  had  heard  since  the  slanders,  except  one 
who  was  unfriendly.  Some  witnesses  spoke  of  butchering 
hogs  at  night,  and  hearing  them  squeal  at  a  late  hour  at  the 
plaintiff's  slaughter  house,  and  of  the  dead  hogs  they  had 
seen  with  various  marks,  and  something  of  hogs  having  been 
stolen  in  the  neighborhood. 

This  was  about  all  the  proof. 

The  plaintiff  laid  his  damages  at  $10,000. 

I  rose  to  address  the  jury.  By  this  time  a  good  deal 
of  the  excitement  had  worn  off.  The  tremor  left,  only  gave 
me  that  sort  of  feeling  which  is  rather  favorable  than  other- 
wise to  a  public  speaker. 

I  might  have  made  a  pretty  good  out  of  it,  if  I  had 
thrown  myself  upon  the  merits  of  my  case,  acknowledged 
modestly  my  own  inexperience,  plainly  stated  the  evidence 
and  the  law,  and  let  the  case  go — reserving  myself  in  the 
conclusion  /or  a  splurge^  if  I  chose  to  make  one.  But  the 
evil  genius  that  presides  over  the  first  bantlings  of  all  law- 
yerlings,  would  have  it  otherwise.  The  citizens  of  the  town 
•^nd  those  of  the  country,  then  in  the  village,  had  gathered 


32  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

in  great  numbers  into  the  courthouse  to  hear  the  speeches 
and  I  could  not  miss  such  an  opportunity  for  display. 

Looking  over  the  jury  I  found  them  a  plain^  matter-of- 
fact  looking  set  of  fellows ;  but  I  did  not  note,  or  probably 
know  a  fact  or  two  about  them,  wiiich  I  found  out  after- 
guards. 

I  started,  as  I  thought,  in  pretty  good  style.  As  I  went 
on,  however,  my  fancy  began  to  get  the  better  of  my  judg- 
ment. Argument  and  common  sense  grew  tame.  Poetry 
and  declamation,  and,  at  last,  pathos  and  fiery  invective, 
took  their  place.  I  grew  as  quotations  as  Richard  Swivel- 
ler.  Shakspeare  suffered.  I  quoted,  among  other  things 
of  less  value  and  aptness,  "  He  who  steals  my  purse  steals 
trash,"  &c.  I  spoke  of  the  woful  sufferings  of  my  poor 
client,  almost  heart-broken  beneath  the  weight  of  the  terrible 
persecutions  of  his  enemy :  and,  growing  bolder,  I  turned 
on  old  Kasm,  and  congratulated  the  jury  that  the  genius  of 
slander  had  found  an  appropriate  defender  in  the  genius  of 
chicane  and  malignity.  I  complimented  the  jury  on  their 
patience — on  their  intelligence — on  their  estimate  of  the 
value  of  character ;  spoke  of  the  public  expectation — of  that 
feeling  outside  of  the  box  which  would  welcome  with  thun- 
dering plaudits  the  righteous  verdict  the  jury  would  render ; 
and  wound  up  by  declaring  that  I  had  never  known  a  case 
of  slander  so  aggravated  in  the  course  of  my  practice  at 
that  bar ;  and  felicitated  myself  that  its  grossness  and  bar- 
barity justified  my  client  in  relying  upon  even  the  youth  and 
inexperience  of  an  unpractised  advocate,  vfhose  poverty  of 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  33 

resouices  was  unaided  by  opportunities  of  previous  prepara- 
tion.    Much  more  I  said  that  happily  has  now  escaped  me. 

When  I  concluded  Sam  Hicks  and  one  or  two  other 
friends  gave  a  faint  sign  of  applause — but  not  enough  to 
make  any  impression. 

I  observed  that  old  Kasm  held  his  head  down  when  I 
was  speaking.  I  entertained  the  hope  that  I  had  cowed 
him !  His  usual  port  was  that  of  cynical  composure,  or 
bold  and  brazen  defiance.  It  was  a  special  kindness  if  he 
only  smiled  in  covert  scorn :  that  was  his  most  amiable  ex- 
pression in  a  trial. 

But  when  he  raised  up  his  head  I  saw  the  very  devil 
was  to  pay.  His  face  was  of  a  burning  red.  He  seemed 
almost  to  choke  with  rage.  His  eyes  were  blood-shot  and 
flamed  out  fire  and  fury.  His  queue  stuck  out  behind,  and 
shook  itself  stiffly  like  a  bufialo  bull's  tail  when  he  is  about 
making  a  fatal  plunge.  I  had  struck  him  between  wind  and 
water.  There  was  an  audacity  in  a  stripling  like  me  beard- 
ing him,  which  infuriated  him.  He  meant  to  massacre  nie 
— and  wanted  to  be  a  long  time  doing  it.  It  was  to  be  a 
regul^LY  auto  da  fe.  I  was  to  be  the  representative  of  the 
young  bar,  and  to  expiate  his  malice  against  all.  The  court 
adjourned  for  dinner.     It  met  again  after  an  hour's  recess. 

By  this  time  the  public  interest,  and  especially  that  of 
the  bar,  grew  very  great.  There  was  a  rush  to  the  privi- 
leged seats,  and  the  sheriff  had  to  command  order, — the 
shuffling  of  feet  and  the  pressure  of  the  crowd  forward  was 
so  great 

2* 


o4  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

I  took  my  seat  within  the  bar,  looked  around  with  an 
affectation  of  indifference  so  belying  the  perturbation  within, 
that  the  same  power  of  acting  on  the  stage  would  have  made 
my  fortune  on  that  theatre.  ^ 

Kasm  rose — took  a  glass  of  water :  his  hand  trembled  a 
little — I  could  see  that ;  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and  led  off 
in  a  voice  slow  and  measured,  but  slightly — very  slightly — 
tremulous.  By  a  strong  effort  he  had  recovered  his  compo- 
sure. The  bar  was  surprised  at  his  calmness.  They  all 
knew  it  was  affected  ;  but  they  wondered  that  he  could  affect 
it.  Nobody  was  deceived  by  it.  We  felt  assured  "  it  was 
the  torrent's  smoothness  ere  it  dash  below."  I  thought  he 
would  come  down  on  me  in  a  tempest,  and  flattered  myself 
it  would  soon  be  over.  But  malice  is  cunning.  He  had  no 
idea  of  letting  me  off  so  easily. 

He  commenced  by  saying  that  he  had  been  some  years 
m  the  practice.  He  would  not  say  he  was  an  old  man :  that 
would  be  in  bad  taste,  perhaps.  The  young  gentleman  who 
had  just  closed  his  remarkable  speech,  harangue,  poetic  effu- 
sion, or  rigmarole,  or  whatever  it  might  be  called,  if,  indeed, 
any  name  could  be  safely  given  to  this  motley  mixture  of 
incongruous  slang — the  young  gentleman  evidently  did  not 
think  he  was  an  old  man ;  for  he  could  hardly  have  been 
guilty  of  such  rank  indecency  as  to  have  treated  age  with 
such  disrespect — he  would  not  say  with  such  insufferable  im- 
pertinence :  and  yet,  "  I  am,"  he  continued,  ''  of  age  enough 
to  recollect,  if  I  had  charged  my  memory  with  so  inconsid- 
erable an  event,  the'  day  of  his  birth,  and  then  I  was  in  full 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  35 

practice  in  this  courthouse.  I  confess,  though,  gentlemen,  I 
am  old  enough  to  remember  the  period  when  a  youth's  first 
appearance  at  the  bar  was  not  signalized  by  impertinence  to- 
wards his  seniors ;  and  when  public  opinion  did  not  think 
flatulent  bombast  and  florid  trash,  picked  out  of  fifth-rate 
romances  and  namby-pamby  rhymes,  redeemed  by  the  up- 
start sauciness  of  a  raw  popinjay,  towards  the  experienced 
members  of  the  profession  he  disgraced.  And  yet,  to  some 
extent,  this  ranting  youth  may  be  right :  I  am  not  old  in 
that  sense  which  disables  me  from  defending  myself  here  by 
words,  or  elsewhere^  if  need  be,  by  blows :  and  that,  this 
young  gentleman  shall  right  well  know  before  I  have  done 
with  him.  You  will  bear  in  mind,  gentlemen,  that  what  I 
say  is  in  self-defence — that  I  did  not  begin  this  quarrel — 
that  it  was  forced  on  me ;  and  that  I  am  bound  by  no  re- 
straints of  courtesy,  or  of  respect,  or  of  kindness.  Let 
him  charge  to  the  account  of  his  own  rashness  and  rudeness, 
whatever  he  receives  in  return  therefor. 

'^  Let  me  retort  on  this  youth  that  he  is  a  worthy  advo- 
cate of  his  butcher  client.  He  fights  with  the  dirty  weapons 
of  his  barbarous  trade,  and  brings  into  his  speech  the  reek- 
ing odor  of  his  client's  slaughter-house. 

"  Perhaps  something  of  this  congeniality  commended 
him  to  the  notice  of  his  worthy  client,  and  to  this,  his  first 
retainer :  and  no  wonder,  for  when  we  heard  his  vehement 
roaring,  we  might  have  supposed  his  client  had  brought  his 
most  unruly  bull-calf  into  court  to  defend  him,  had  not  the 
matter  of  the  roaring  soon  convinced  us  the  animal  was 


36  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

more  remarkable  for  the  length  of  his  ears,  than  even  the 
power  of  his  lungs.  Perhaps  the  young  gentleman  has  ta* 
ken  his  retainer,  and  contracted  for  butchering  my  client  on 
the  same  terms  as  his  client  contracts  in  his  line — that  is, 
on  the  shares.  But  I  think,  gentlemen,  he  will  find  the  con- 
tract a  more  dirty  than  profitable  job.  Or,  perhaps,  it  might 
not  be  uncharitable  to  suggest  that  his  client,  who  seems  to 
be  pretty  well  up  to  the  business  of  saving  other  people's  ba- 
con^  may  have  desired,  as  far  as  possible,  to  save  his  own ; 
and,  therefore  turning  from  members  of  the  bar  who  would 
have  charged  him  for  their  services  according  to  their  value. 
took  this  occasion  of  getting  off  some  of  his  stale  wares; 
for  has  not  Shakspeare  said — (the  gentleman  will  allow  mc 
to  quote  Shakspeare,  too,  while  yet  his  reputation  survives 
Ids  barbarous  mouthing  of  the  poet's  words) — he  knew  an 
attorney  ^  who  would  defend  a  cause  for  a  starved  hen,  or 
leg  of  mutton  fly-lDlown.'  I  trust,  however,  whatever  was 
the  contract,  that  the  gentleman  will  make  his  equally  wor- 
thy client  stand  up  to  it ;  for  I  should  like,  that  on  one  oc- 
casion it  might  be  said  the  excellent  butcher  was  made  to 
"pay  for  his  swine. 

^'  I  find  it  difficult,  gentlemen,  to  reply  to  any  part  of  the 
young  man's  effort,  except  his  argument,  which  is  the  small- 
est part  in  compass,  and,  next  to  his  pathos,  the  most  amus- 
ing. His  figures  of  speech  are  some  of  them  quite  good, 
and  have  been  so  considered  by  the  best  judges  for  the  lasl 
thousand  years.  I  must  confess,  that  as  to  these,  I  find  no 
other  fault  than  that  they  were  badly  applied  and  ridicu- 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  37 

lously  pronounced ;  and  this  further  fault,  that  they  have 
become  so  common-place  by  constant  use,  that,  unless  some 
new  vamping  or  felicity  of  application  be  given  them,  they 
tire  nearly  as  much  as  his  original  matter — videlicet^  that 
matter  which  being  more  ridiculous  than  we  ever  heard  be- 
fore, carries  internal  evidence  of  its  being  his  own.  Indeed, 
it  was  never  hard  to  tell  when  the  gentleman  recurred  to 
his  own  ideas.  He  is  like  a  cat-bird — the  only  intolerable 
discord  she  makes  being  her  own  notes — though  she  gets  on 
well  enough  as  long  as  she  copies  and  cobbles  the  songs  of 
other  warblers. 

"  But,  gentlemen,  if  this  young  orator's  argument  was 
amusing,  what  shall  I  say  of  his  pathos  ?  What  farce  ever 
equalled  the  fun  of  it  ?  The  play  of  '  The  Liar '  probably 
approaches  nearest  to  it,  not  only  in  the  humor,  but  in  the 
veracious  character  of  the  incidents  from  which  the  humor 
comes.  Such  a  face — so  woe-begone,  so  whimpering,  as  if  the 
short  period  since  he  was  flogged  at  school  (probably  in 
reference  to  those  eggs  falsely  charged  to  the  hound  puppy) 
had  neither  obliterated  the  remembrance  of  his  juvenile  afflic- 
tion, nor  the  looks  he  bore  when  he  endured  it. 

"  There  was  something  exquisite  in  his  picture  of  the 
woes,  the  wasting  grief  of  his  disconsolate  client,  the  butcher 
Higginbotham,  mourning — as  Rachel  mourned  for  her  chil- 
dren— for  his  character  because  it  loas  not.  Gentlemen, 
look  at  him  1  Why  he  weighs  twelve  stone  now  I  He  has 
three  inches  of  fat  on  his  ribs  this  minute  !  He  would  make 
as  many  links  of  sausage  as  any  hog  that  ever  squealed  at 


38  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

midnight  in  his  slaughter  pen,  and  has  lard  enough  in  him 
to  cook  it  all.  Look  at  his  face  !  why,  his  chops  remind  a 
hungry  man  of  jowls  and  greens.  If  this  is  a  shadow,  in 
the  name  of  propriety,  why  didn't  he  show  himself,  when  in 
flesh,  at  the  last  Fair,  beside  the  Kentucky  ox ;  that  were  a 
more  honest  way  of  making  a  living  than  stealing  hogs. 
But  Hig  is  pining  in  grief !  I  wonder  the  poetic  youth — 
his  learned  counsel — did  not  quote  Shakspeare  again.  '  He 
never  told  his  ' — woe — ^  but  let  concealment,  like  the  worm 
i'  the  bud,  prey  on  his  damask  cheek.'  He  looked  like 
Patience  on  a  monument  smiling  at  grief — or  beef  I  should 
rather  say.  But,  gentlemen,  probably  I  am  wrong;  it  may 
be  that  this  tender-hearted,  sensitive  butcher,  was  lean  be- 
fore, and  like  Falstaff,  throws  the  blame  of  his  fat  on  sorrow 
and  sighing,  which  ^  has  puffed  him  up  like  a  bladder.' 
(Here  Higginbotham  left  in  disgust.) 

"  There,  gentlemen,  he  goes,  '  larding  the  lean  earth  as 
he  walks  along.'  Well  has  Doctor  Johnson  said,  ^who  kills 
fat  oxen  should  himself  be  fat.'  Poor  Hig  !  stuffed  like  one 
of  his  own  blood-puddings,  with  a  dropsical  grief  which 
nothing  short  of  ten  thousand  dollars  of  Swink's  money  can 
cure.  Well,  as  grief  puffs  him  up,  I  don't  wonder  that 
nothing  but  depleting  another  man  can  cure  him. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,  I  come  to  the  blood  and  thunder 
part  of  this  young  gentleman's  harangue  :  empty  and  vapid ; 
words  and  nothing  else.  If  any  part  of  his  rigmarole  was 
windier  than  any  other  part,  this  was  it.  He  turned  him 
self  into  a  small  cascade,  making  a  great  deal  of  noise  to 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  39 

make  a  great  deal  of  froth;  tumbling;  roaring;  foaming; 
the  shallower  it  ran  all  the  noisier  it  seemed.  He  fretted 
and  knitted  his  brows ;  he  beat  the  air  and  he  vociferated, 
always  emphasizing  the  meaningless  words  most  loudly; 
he  puffed,  swelled  out  and  blowed  off,  until  he  seemed 
like  a  new  bellows,  all  brass  and  wind.  How  he  mouthed  it 
— as  those  villainous  stage  players  ranting  out  fustian  in  a 
barn  theatre.[mimicking]— ^  Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash.' 
(I  don't  deny  it.)  ^ 'Tis  something,'  (query?)  ^nothing,' 
(exactly.)  ^  'Tis  mine ;  'twas  his,  and  has  been  slave  to 
thousands — but  he  who  filches  from  me  my  good  name,  robs 
me  of  that  which  not  enricheth  him,'  (not  in  the  least,)  '  but 
makes  me  poor  indeed ; '  (just  so,  but  whether  any  poorer 
than  before  he  parted  with  the  encumbrance,  is  another  mat- 
ter.) 

But  the  young  gentleman  refers  to  his  youth.  He  ought 
not  to  reproach  us  of  maturer  age  in  that  indirect  way :  no  one 
would  have  suspected  it  of  him,  or  him  of  it,  if  he  had  not 
told  it :  indeed^  from  hearing  him  speak,  we  were  prepared 
to  give  him  credit  for  almost  any  length  of  ears.  But  does 
not  the  youth  remember  that  G-rotius  was  only  seventeen 
when  he  was  in  full  practice,  and  that  he  was  Attorney  Gen- 
eral at  twenty-two  ;  and  what  is  Grotius  to  this  greater  light  ? 
Not  the  burning  of  my  smoke  house  to  the  conflagration  of 
Moscow ! 

^'  And  yet,  young  Grotius  tells  us  in  the  next  breath,  that 
he  never  knew  such  a  slander  in  the  course  of  his  practice  ? 
Wonderful,  indeed  !   seeing  that  his  practice  has  all  been 


40  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

done  within  the  last  six  hours.  Why,  to  hear  him  talk,  you 
would  suppose  that  he  was  an  old  Continental  lawyer,  grown 
grey  in  the  service.  H-i-s  p-r-a-e-t-i-c-e  !  Why  he  is  just  in 
his  legal  swaddling  clothes  !  His  Practice  !  1  But  I  don't 
wonder  he  can't  see  the  absurdity  of  such  talk.  How  long 
does  it  take  one  of  the  canine  tribe,  after  birth,  to  open  his 


eyes 


"  He  talked,  too,  of  outside  influences ;  of  the  public  ex- 
pectations, and  all  that  sort  of  demagoguism.  I  observed 
no  evidence  of  any  great  popular  demonstrations  in  his  favor, 
unless  it  be  a  tailor  I  saw  stamping  his  feet ;  but  whether 
that  was  because  he  had  sat  cross-legged  so  long  he  wanted 
exercise,  or  'gas  rejoicing  because  he  had  got  orders  for  a  new 
suit,  07'  a  prospect  of  payment  for  an  old  one^  the  gentleman 
can  possibly  tell  better  than  I  can.  (Here  Hicks  left.)  How- 
ever, if  this  case  is  to  be  decided  by  the  populace  liere^  the 
gentleman  will  allow  me  the  benefit  of  a  writ  of  error  to  the 
regimental  muster,  to  be  held,  next  Friday,  at  Eeinhert's  Dis- 
tillery. 

"  But,  I  suppose  he  meant  to  frighten  you  into  a  verdict, 
by  intimating  that  the  mob,  frenzied  by  his  eloquence,  would 
tear  you  to  pieces  if  you  gave  a  verdict  for  defendant ;  lilie 
the  equally  eloquent  barrister  out  West,  who,  concluding  a 
case,  said,  '  Gentlemen,  my  client  are  as  innocent  of  stealing 
that  cotting  as  the  Sun  at  noonday,  and  if  you  give  it  agin 
him,  his  brother,  Sam  Ketchins,  next  muster,  will  maul  eve- 
ry mother's  son  of  you.'  I  hope  the  Sheriff  will  see  to  his 
duty  and  keep  the  crowd  from  you,  gentlemen,  if  you  should 
give  us  a  verdict ! 


MY    FmST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  41 

"  Butj  gentlemen,  I  am  tired  of  winnowing  chaff;  I  have 
not  had  the  reward  paid  by  Gratiano  for  sifting  his  discourse : 
the  two  grains  of  wheat  to  the  busheL  It  is  all  froth — all 
wind — all  bubble." 

Kasm  left  me  here  for  a  time,  and  turned  upon  my  client. 
Poor  Higginbotham  caught  it  thick  and  heavy.  He  wooled 
him,  then  skinned  him,  and  then  took  to  skinning  off  the  un- 
der cuticle.  Hig  never  skinned  a  beef  so  thoroughly.  He 
put  together  all  the  facts  about  the  witnesses'  hearing  the 
hogs  squealing  at  night ;  the  different  marks  of  the  hogs ;  the 
losses  in  the  neighborhood ;  perverted  the  testimony  and 
supplied  omissions,  until  you  would  suppose,  on  hearing  him, 
that  it  had  been  fully  proved  that  poor  Hig  had  stolen  all 
the  meat  he  had  ever  sold  in  the  market.  He  asseverated 
that  this  suit  was  a  malicious  conspiracy  between  the  Metho- 
dists and  Masons,  to  crush  his  client.  But  all  this  I  leave 
out,  as  not  bearing  on  the  main  subject — myself.        <  Mjjj^ 

He  came  back  to  me  with  a  renewed  appetite.  He  said 
he  would  conclude  by  paying  his  valedictory  respects  to  his 
juvenile  friend — as  this  was  the  last  time  he  ever  expected 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him. 

"  That  poetic  young  gentleman  had  said,  that  by  your 
verdict  against  his  client,  you  would  blight  for  ever  his  repu- 
tation and  that  of  his  family — '  that  you  would  bend  down 
the  spirit  of  his  manly  son,  and  dim  the  radiance  of  his  bloom- 
ing daughter's  beaut}^'  Yery  pretty,  upon  my  word  !  But^ 
gentlemen,  not  so  fine — not  so  poetical  by  half,  as  a  precious 
morceau  of  poetry  which  adorns  the  columns  of  the  villn^^ 


42  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

newspaper,  bearing  the  initials  J.  C.  R.  As  this  admirablo 
production  has  excited  a  great  deal  of  applause  in  the  nur- 
series and  boarding  schools,  I  must  beg  to  read  it ;  not  for 
the  instruction  of  the  gentleman,  he  has  already  seen  it ;  but 
for  the  entertainment  of  the  Jury.  It  is  addressed  to  K*** 
B***,  a  young  lady  of  this  place.     Here  it  goes." 

Judge  my  horror,  when,  on  looking  up,  I  saw  him  take  an 
old  newspaper  from  his  pocket,  and,  pulling  down  his  spec- 
tacles, begin  to  read  off  in  a  stage-actor  style,  some  verses  I 
had  written  for  Kose  Bell's  Album.  Kose  had  been  worry- 
ing me  for  some  time,  to  write  her  something.  To  get  rid 
of  her  importunities,  I  had  scribbled  off  a  few  lines  and  cop- 
ied them  in  the  precious  volume.  Bose,  the  little  fool, 
took  them  for  something  very  clever  (she  never  had  more 
than  a  thimbleful  of  brains  in  her  doll-baby  head) — and  was 
so  tickled  with  them,  that  she  got  her  brother,  Bill,  then 
about  fourteen,  to  copy  them  off,  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
ta^Fth^m  to  the  printing  office.  Bill  threw  them  under  the 
door ;  the  printer,  as  big  a  fool  as  either,  not  only  published 
them,  but,  in  his  infernal  kindness,  puffed  them  in  some  criti- 
cal commendations  of  his  own,  referring  to  ''  the  gifted  au- 
thor," as  ''  one  of  the  most  promising  of  the  younger  mem- 
bers of  our  bar." 

The  fun,  by  this  time,  grew  fast  and  furious.  The  coun- 
try people,  who  have  about  as  much  sympathy  for  a  young 
town  lawyer,  badgered  by  an  older  one,  as  for  a  young  cub 
beset  by  curs ;  and  who  have  about  as  much  idea  or  respect 
for  poetry,  as  for  witchcraft,  joined  in  the  mirth  with  great 


THE  CURE  OF  POETRY. 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANCE    AT    THE    BAR.  43 

glee.  They  crowded  around  old  Kasm,  and  stamped  and 
roared  as  at  a  circus.  The  Judge  and  Sheriff  in  vain  tried 
to  keep  order.  Indeed,  his  honor  smiled  out  loud  once  or 
twice  ;  and  to  cover  his  retreat,  pretended  to  cough,  and  fined 
the  Sheriff  five  dollars  for  not  keeping  silence  in  court.  Even 
the  old  Clerk,  whose  immemorial  pen  behind  his  right  ear 
had  worn  the  hair  from  that  side  of  his  head,  and  who  had 
not  smiled  in  court  for  twenty  years,  and  boasted  that  Pat- 
rick Henry  couldn't  disturb  him  in  making  up  a  judgment 
entry,  actually  turned  his  chair  from  the  desk  and  lout  down 
his  pen  :  afterwards  he  put  his  hand  to  his  head  three  times 
in  search  of  it ;  forgetting,  in  his  attention  to  old  Kasm,  what 
he  had  done  with  it. 

Old  Kasm  went  on  reading  and  commenting  by  turns.  I 
forget  what  the  ineffable  trash  was.  I  wouldn't  recollect  it 
if  I  could.  My  equanimity  will  only  stand  a  phrase  or  two 
that  still  lingers  in  my  memory,  fixed  there  by  old  I^tt|'s 
ridicule.  I  had  said  something  about  my  '^  bosom's  ^^|Pr' 
— about  the  passion  that  was  consuming  me ;  and,  to  illus- 
trate it,  or  to  make  the  line  jingle,  put  in  something  about 
''  Egypt's  Queen  taking  the  Asp  to  her  bosom  " — which,  for 
the  sake  of  rhyme  or  metre,  I  called  ^'  the  venomous  worm" 
— how  the  confounded  thing  was  brought  in,  I  neither  know 
nor  want  to  know.  When  old  Kasm  came  to  that,  he  said 
he  fully  appreciated  what  the  young  bard  said — he  belie\ed 
it.  He  spoke  of  venomous  ivorms.  Now,  if  he  (Kasm)  might 
presume  to  give  the  young  gentleman  advice,  he  would  re- 
v)mmend  Swain's  Patent  Vermifup;e.     He  had  no  doubt  that 


44  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

it  would  effectually  cure  him  of  liis  malady,  Lis  love,  and  last^ 
but  not  least,  of  his  rhymes — which  would  be  the  happiest 
passage  in  his  eventful  history. 

I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  I  had  borne  it  to  the  last 
point  of  human  endurance.  When  it  came  only  to  skinning, 
I  was  there ;  but  when  he  showered  down  aquafortis  on  the 
raw,  and  then  seemed  disposed  to  rub  it  in,  I  fled.  Abii^ 
erupij  cvasi.  The  last  thing  I  heard  was  old  Kasm  calling 
me  back,  amidst  the  shouts  of  the  audidence — but  no  more. 
#  #  *  #  #  * 

The  next  information  I  received  of  the  case,  was  in  a  let- 
ter that  came  to  me  at  Natchez,  my  new  residence,  from 
Hicks,  about  a  month  afterwards,  telling  me  that  the  jury  (on 
which  I  should  have  stated  old  Kasm  had  got  two  infidels 
and  four  anti-masons)  had  given  in  a  verdict  for  defendant : 
that  before  the  court  adjourned,  Frank  Grlendye  had  got  so- 
b|ttw^  moved  for  a  new  trial,  on  the  ground  that  the  ver- 
oW^w^  against  evidence,  and  that  the  plaintiff  had  not  had 
justice,  1)7/  reason  of  the  incom2:)etency  of  his  counsel^  and  the 
ahandonment  of  his  cause  ;  and  that  he  got  a  new  trial  (as 
well  he  should  have  done). 

I  learned  through  Hicks,  some  twelve  months  later,  that 
the  case  had  been  tried ;  that  Frank  Glendye  had  made  one 
of  his  greatest  and  most  eloquent  speeches ;  that  Glendye 
had  joined  the  Temperance  Society,  and  was  now  one  of  the 
soberest  and  most  attentive  men  to  business  at  the  bar,  and 
was  at  the  head  of  it  in  practice ;  that  Higginbotham  had 
recovered  a  verdict  of  $2000,  and  had  put  Swink  in  for  $500 
3osts,  besides. 


MY    FIRST    APPEARANEE    AT    THE    BAR.  45 

Hicks'  letter  gave  me,  too,  the  inelancholy  intelligence  ot 
old  Kasm's  death.  He  had  died  in  an  apoplectic  fit,  in  the 
court  house,  while  abusing  an  old  preacher  vrho  had  testified 
against  him  in  a  crim.  con.  case.  He  enclosed  the  proceed- 
ings of  a  bar  meeting,  in  which  ''  the  melancholy  dispensation 
which  called  our  beloved  brother  hence  w^hile  in  the  active 
discharge  of  his  duties,"  was  much  deplored ;  but,  with  a  pi- 
ous resignation,  which  was  greatly  to  be  admired,  ''  they  sub- 
mitted to  the  will,"  &c.,  and,  with  a  confidence  old  Kasm 
himself,  if  alive,  might  have  envied,  ^'  trusted  he  had  gone  to 
a  better  and  brighter  w^orld,"  &c.,  &c.,  which  carried  the  doc- 
trine of  Universalism  as  far  as  it  could  well  go.  They  con- 
cluded by  resolving  that  the  bar  would  wear  crape  on  the  left 
arm  for  thirty  days.  I  don't  know  what  the  rest  did,  I 
didn't.  Though  not  mentioned  in  his  will,  he  had  left  me 
something  to  remember  him  by.  Bright  be  the  bloom  and 
sweet  the  fragrance  of  the  thistles  on  his  grave  !  _^_ 

Reader !  I  eschewed  genius  from  that  day.  I  took  t™  c- 
counts ;  did  up  every  species  of  paper  that  came  into  my  office 
with  a  tape  string ;  had  pigeon  holes  for  all  the  bits  of  paper 
about  me ;  walked  down  the  street  as  if  I  were  just  going  to 
bank  and  it  wanted  only  five  minutes  to  three  o'clock ;  got 
me  a  green  bag  and  stufi'ed  it  full  of  old  newspapers,  care- 
fully folded  and  labelled ;  read  law,  to  fit  imaginary  cases, 
with  great  industry;  dunned  one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  the 
city  for  fifty  cents ;  sold  out  a  widow  for  a  twenty  dollar  debt, 
and  bought  in  her  things  myself,  publicly  (and  gave  them 
back  to  her  secretly,  afterwards) ;  associated  only  with  skin- 


46     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLI'SH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

flints,  brokers  and  married  men,  and  discussed  investments 
and  stocks  ;  soon  got  into  business ;  looked  -^yise  and  shook 
my  head  when  I  was  consulted,  and  passed  for  a  ''  powerful 
good  judge  of  law;"  confirmed  the  opinion  by  reading,  in 
court,  all  the  books  and  papers  I  could  lay  my  hands  on,  and 
clearing  out  the  court-house  by  hum-drum  details,  common- 
place and  statistics,  whenever  I  made  a  speech  at  the  bar — 
and  thus,  by  this  course  of  things,  am  able  to  write  from  my 
sugar  plantation^  this  memorable  history  of  the  fall  ofgenms 
and  the  rise  of  solemn  humbug  !  J.  C.  R. 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  47 


THE  BENCH  AND  THE  BAR. 

In  the  month  of  March,  a.  d.,  1836,  the  writer  of  these 
faithful  chronicles  of  law-doings  in  the  South  West,  duly 
equipped  for  forensic  warfare,  having  perused  nearly  the  whole 
of  Sir  William  Blackstone's  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of 
England,  left  behind  him  the  red  hills  of  the  village  of  B — , 
in  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  to  seek  his  fortune.  He 
turned  his  horse's  head  to  the  setting  sun.  His  loyalty 
to  the  Old  Dominion  extorts  the  explanation  that  his  was 
no  voluntary  expatriation.  He  went  under  the  compulsion 
which  produced  the  author's  book — "  Urged  by  hunger  and 
request  of  friends."  The  gentle  momentum  of  a  female  slip- 
per, too,  it  might  as  well  be  confessed,  added  its  moral  sua- 
sion to  the  more  pressing  urgencies  of  breakfast,  dinner  and 
supper.  To  the  South  West  he  started  because  magnificent 
accounts  came  from  that  sunny  land  of  most  cheering  and  ex- 
hilarating prospects  of  fussing,  quarrelling,  murdering,  viola- 
tion of  contracts,  and  the  whole  catalogue  of  crimen  falsi — 
in  fine,  of  a  flush  tide  of  litigation  in  all  of  its  departments, 
civil  and  criminal.     It  was  extolled  as  a  legal  Utopia,  peopled 


4S  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

by  a  race  of  eager  litigants,  only  waiting  for  the  lawyers  to  come 
on  and  divide  out  to  them  the  shells  of  a  bountiful  system  of 
squabbling :  a  California  of  Law,  whose  surface  strife  only 
indicated  the  vast  iilaccrs  of  legal  dispute  waiting  in  untold 
profusion,  the  presence  of  a  few  craftsmen  to  bring  out  the 
crude  suits  to  some  forum,  or  into  chancery  for  trial  or  essay. 
He  resigned  prospects  of  great  brilliancy  at  home.  His 
family  connections  were  numerous,  though  those  of  influence 
were  lawyers  themselves,  which  made  this  fact  only  contin- 
gently beneficial — to  wit,  the  contingency  of  their  dying  be- 
fore him — which  was  a  sort  of  rcmotissima  'potentia^  seeing 
they  were  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health,  the  profession 
being  remarkably  salubrious  in  that  village ;  and  seeing  fur- 
ther, that,  after  their  death,  their  influence  might  be  gone. 
Not  counting,  therefore,  too  much  on  this  advantage,  it  was  a 
well-ascertained  fact  that  no  man  of  real  talent  and  energy — 
and,  of  course,  every  lawyerling  has  both  at  the  start — had 
ever  come  to  that  bar,  who  did  not,  in  the  course  of  five  or 
six  years,  with  any  thing  like  moderate  lu(5k,  make  expenses, 
and,  surviving  that  short  probation  on  board  wages,  lay  up 
money,  ranging  from  §250  to  $500,  according  to  merit  and 
good  fortune,  jpcr  annum.  In  evidence  of  the  correctness  of 
this  calculation,  it  may  be  added  that  seven  young  gentlemen, 
all  of  fine  promise,  were  enjoying  high  life — in  upper  stories 
— cultivating  the  cardinal  virtues  of  Faith  and  Hope  in  them 
selves,  and  the  greater  virtue  of  Charity  in  their  friends — 
the  only  briefs  as  yet  known  to  them  being  brief  of  money 
and  brief  of  credit ;   their  barrenness  of  fruition  in  the  day 


THE    BE^X'H    AND    THE    BAR.  49 

time  relieved  by  oriental  dreams  of  fairy  clients,  with  fifteen 
shilling  fees  in  each  hand,  and  glorious  ten  dollar  contingents 
in  the  perspective,  beckoning  them  on  to  Fame  and  Fortune. 
But  Poverty,  the  rugged  mother  of  the  wind-sellers  of  all 
times  and  countries,  as  poor  Peter  Peebles  so  irreverently 
calls  our  honorable  craft, — the  Necessity  which  knows  no 
Law,  yet  teaches  so  much  of  it,  tore  him  from  scenes  and 
prospects  of  such  allurement :  with  the  heroism  of  old  Regu- 
lus,  he  turned  his  back  upon  his  country  and  put  all  to  haz- 
ard— videlicet^  a  pony  valued  at  $35,  a  pair  of  saddle-bags 
and  contents,  a  new  razor  not  much  needed  at  that  early  day, 
and  %lh  in  Virginia  bank  bills. 

Passing  leisurely  along  through  East  Tennessee,  he  was 
struck  with  the  sturdy  independence  of  the  natives,  of  the 
enervating  refinements  of  artificial  society  and  its  concomi- 
tants ;  not  less-  than  with  the  patriotic  encouragement  they 
extended  to  their  own  productions  and  manufactures  :  the 
writer  frequently  saw  j^retty  farmers'  daughters  working  bare- 
footed in  the  field,  and  his  attention  was  often  drawn  to  the 
number  of  the  distilleries  and  to  evident  symptoms  of  a  lib- 
eral patronage  of  their  products.  He  stopped  at  a  seat  of 
Justice  for  half  a  day,  while  court  was  in  session,  to  witness 
the  manner  in  which  the  natives  did  up  judicature ;  but  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  cases  under  a  statute  of  universal  au- 
thority  and  delicacy,  he  saw  nothing  of  special  interest ;  and 
these  did  not  seem  to  excite  much  attention  beyond  the  do- 
mestic circle. 

The  transition  from  East  Tennessee  to  South  Western 
3 


50  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Alabama  and  East  Mississippi  was  sometliing  marked.  It 
was  somewhat  like  a  sudden  change  from  "  Sleepy  Hollow" 
to  the  Strand.  A  man,  retailing  onions  by  the  dozen  in 
Weather sfield,  and  the  same  man  suddenly  turned  into  a 
real  estate  broker  in  San  Francisco,  would  realize  the  con- 
trast between  the  picayune  standard  of  the  one  region,  and 
the  wild  spendthriftism,  the  impetuous  rush  and  the  magnifi- 
cent scale  of  operations  in  the  other. 

The  writer  pitched  his  tabernacle  on  the  thither  side  of 
the  state  line  of  Alabama,  in  the  charming  village  of  P.,  one 
of  the  loveliest  hamlets  of  the  plain,  or  rather  it  would  be, 
did  it  not  stand  on  a  hill.  Gamblers,  then  a  numerous  class, 
included,  the  village  boasted  a  population  of  some  five  hun- 
dred souls  ;  about  a  third  of  whom  were  single  gentlemen  who 
had  come  out  on  the  vague  errand  of  seeking  their  fortune, 
oi;  the  more  definite  one  of  seeking  somebody  else's ;  philoso- 
phers who  mingled  the  spirit  of  Anacreon  with  the  enterprise 
of  Astor,  and  who  enjoyed  the  present  as  well  as  laid  projects 
for  the  future,  to  be  worked  out  for  their  own  profit  upon  the 
safe  plan  of  some  other  person's  risk. 

Why  he  selected  this  particular  spot  for  his  locus  in  quo, 
is  easily  told.  The  capital  he  had  invested  in  emigration 
was  nearly  expended  and  had  not  as  yet  declared  any  divi- 
dend ;  and,  with  native  pride,  he  was  ambitious  to  carry  money 
enough  with  him  to  excite  the  hopes  of  his  landlord.  Be- 
sides, he  was  willing  to  try  his  hand  on  the  practice  where 
competition  was  not  formidable. 

The  "  accommodations  "  at  the  "American  Hotel  "  were 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    EAR.  51 

not  such  as  were  calculated  to  beguile  a  spiritual  mind  to 
thinofs  of  sense.  The  writer  has  been  at  the  Astor,  the  Re- 
vere  and  the  St.  Charles  since,  and  did  not  note  the  resem- 
blance. A  huge  cross-piece,  like  a  gibbet,  stood  before  the 
door — the  usual  i?2n-sign  of  the  country;  and  though  a  very 
apt  device  as  typifying  death,  it  was  not  happy  in  denoting 
the  specific  kind  of  destruction  that  menaced  the  guest.  The 
vigor  of  his  constitution,  however,  proved  sufficient  for  the 
trial ;  though,  for  a  long  time,  the  contest  was  dubious. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  so  scarce  were  provisions — bull- 
beef  excepted,  which  seemed  to  b6  every  where — that  we 
were  forced  to  eat  green  corn,  baked  or  fried  with  lard,  for 
bread ;  and  he  remembers,  when  biscuits  came  again,  a  mad 
wag,  Jim  Cole,  shouted  out  from  the  table  that  he  should  cer- 
tainly die  7toWj  for  want  of  a  new  bolting  cloth  to  his  throat. 

A  shed  for  an  office  procured,  the  next  thing  was  a  li- 
cense ;  and  this  a  Circuit  Judge  was  authorized  to  grant, 
which  service  was  rendered  by  the  Hon.  J.  F.  T.  in  a  manner 
which  shall  ever  inspire  gratitude — ^he  asking  not  a  single 
legal  question ;  an  eloquent  silence  which  can  never  be  appre- 
ciated except  by  those  who  are  unable  to  stand  an  examina- 
tion. 

This  egotism  over,  and  its  purpose  of  merely  introducing 
the  witness  accomplished,  the  narrative  will  proceed  without 
further  mention  of  him  or  his  fortunes ;  and  if  any  reader 
thinks  he  loses  any  thing  by  this  abbreviation,  perhaps  it  will 
be  full  consolation  to  him  to  know  that  if  it  proceeded  fur- 
ther, the  author  might  lose  a  great  deal  more. 


52  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Dropping  the  third  for  the  more  convenient  first  person, 
he  will  proceed  to  give  some  account  of  what  was  done  by  or 
to  Themis  in  that  part  of  her  noisy  domain. 


Those  were  jolly  times.  Imagine  thirty  or  forty  young 
men  collected  together  in  a  new  country,  armed  with  fresh 
licenses  which  they  had  got  gratuitously,  and  a  plentiful 
stock  of  brass  which  they  had  got  in  the  natural  way ;  and 
standing  ready  to  supply  any  distressed  citizen  who  wanted 
law,  with  their  wares  counterfeiting  the  article.  I  must  con- 
fess it  looked  to  me  something  like  a  swindle.  It  was  doing 
business  on  the  wooden  nutmeg,  or  rather  the  patent  brass- 
clock  principle.  There  was  one  consolation  :  the  clients  were 
generally  as  sham  as  the  counsellors.  For  the  most  part, 
they  were  either  broke  or  in  a  rapid  decline.  They  usually 
paid  us  the  compliment  of  retaining  us,  but  they  usually  re- 
tained the  fee  too,  a  double  retainer  we  did  not  much  fancy. 
However,  we  got  as  much  as  we  were  entitled  to  and  some- 
thing over,  videlicet^  as  much  over  as  we  got  at  all.  The 
most  that  we  made  was  experience.  We  learned  before  long, 
how  every  possible  sort  of  case  could  be  successfully  lost;  there 
was  no  way  of  getting  out  of  court  that  we  had  not  tested.  The 
last  way  we  learned  was  via  a  verdict :  it  was  a  considerable 
triumph  to  get  to  the  jury,  though  it  seemed  a  sufficiently 
•^asy  matter  to  get  away  from  one  again.  But  the  perils  of 
the  road  from  the  writ  to  an  issue  or  issues — for  there  were 
generally  several  of  them — were  great  indeed.  The  way  was 
infested  and  ambushed,  with  all  imaginable  points  of  practice, 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  53 

quirks  and  quibbles,  that  had  strayed  off  from  the  litigation 
of  every  sort  of  foreign  judicature, — that  had  been  success- 
fully tried  in,  or  been  driven  out  of,  regularly  organized  fo- 
rums, besides  a  smart  sprinkling  of  indigenous  growth.  Noth- 
ing was  settled.  Chaos  had  come  again,  or  rather,  had  never 
gone  away.  Order,  Heaven's  first  law,  seemed  unwilling  to 
remain  where  there  was  no  other  law  to  keep  it  company.  I 
spoke  of  the  thirty  or  forty  barristers  on  their  first  legs — 
but  I  omitted  to  speak  of  the  older  members  who  had  had 
the  advantage  of  several  years'  practice  and  precedence. 
These  were  the  leaders  on  the  Circuit.  They  had  the  law — 
that  is  the  practice  and  rulings  of  the  courts — and  kept  it  as 
a  close  monopoly.  The  earliest  information  we  got  of  it  was 
when  some  precious  dogma  was  drawn  out  on  us  with  fatal 
effect.  They  had  conned  the  statutes  for  the  last  fifteen 
years,  which  were  inaccessible  to  us,  and  we  occasionally, 
much  to  our  astonishment,  got  the  benefit  of  instruction  in  a 
clause  or  two  of  "  the  act  in  such  cases  made  and  provided  " 
at  a  considerable  tuition  fee  to  be  paid  by  our  clients.  Oc- 
casionally, too,  a  repealed  statute  was  revived  for  our  especial 
benefit.  The  courts  being  forbidden  to  charge  except  as  spe- 
cially asked,  took  away  from  us,  in  a  great  measure,  the  pro- 
tection of  the  natural  guardians  of  our  ignorant  innocence  : 
there  could  be  no  prayer  for  general  relief,  and  we  did  not — 
many  of  us — know  how  to  pray  specially,  and  always  ran 
great  risks  of  prejudicing  our  cases  before  the  jury,  by  hav- 
ing instructions  refused.  It  was  better  to  trust  to  the  ^^un- 
covenanted  mercies  '   of  the  jury,  and  risk  a  decision  on  the 


54  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

honesty  of  the  thing,  than  blunder  along  after  charges.  As 
to  reserving  points  except  as  a  bluff  or  scarecrow,  that  was  a 
thing  unheard  of:  the  Supreme  Court  was  a  perfect  terra  in- 
cognita :  we  had  all  heard  there  was  such  a  place,  as  we  had 
heard  of  Heaven's  Chancery,  to  which  the  Accusing  Spirit 
took  tip  Uncle  Toby's  oath,  but  we  as  little  knew  the  way  there, 
and  as  little  expected  to  go  there.  Out  of  one  thousand 
cases,  butchered  in  cold  blood  without  and  with  the  forms  of 
law,  not  one  in  that  first  year's  practice,  ever  got  to  the  High 
Court  of  Errors  and  Appeals ;  (or,  as  Prentiss  called  it,  the 
Court  of  High  Errors  and  Appeals.)  No  wonder  we  never 
started.  How  could  we  ever  get  them  there  ?  If  y;e  had  to 
run  a  gauntlet  of  technicalities  and  quibbles  to  get  a  judg- 
ment on  "-a  plain  note  of  hand,"  in  the  Circuit  Court,  Tarn 
O'Shanter's  race  through  the  witches,  would  be  nothing  to 
the  journey  to  and  through  the  Supreme  Court !  It  would 
have  been  a  writ  of  error  indeed — or  rather  a  writ  of  many 
errors.  This  is  but  speculation,  however — we  never  tried  it 
— the  experiment  was  too  much  even  for  our  brass.  The 
leaders  were  a  good  deal  but  not  generally  retained.  The 
.reason  was,  they  wanted  the  money,  or  like  Ealstaff 's  mercer, 
good  security ;  a  most  uncomfortable  requisition  with  the 
mass  of  our  litigants.  We,  of  the  local  bar  trusted — so  did 
our  clients  :  it  is  hard  to  sa}^  which  did  the  wildest  credit 
business. 

The  leaders  were  sharp  fellows — keen  as  briars — au  fait 
in  all  trap  points — quick  to  discern  small  errors — perfect  in 
forms  and  ceremonies — very  pharisees  in  "  anise,  mint  and 


THE   BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  55 

cummin — hut  7ieglecting  judgment  and  the  iveightier  mat- 
ters  of  the  lavj^  They  seemed  to  think  that  judicature  was 
a  tanjard — clients  skins  to  be  curried — the  court  the  mill, 
and  the  thing  "  to  work  on  their  leather"  with — hark  :  the 
idea  that  justice  had  any  thing  to  do  with  trying  causes,  or 
sense  had  any  thing  to  do  with  legal  principles,' never  seemed 
to  occur  to  them  once,  as  a  possible  conception. 

Those  were  quashing  times,  and  they  were  the  out  quash- 
ingest  set  of  fellows  ever  known.  They  moved  to  quash  eve- 
ry thing,  from  a  venire  to  a  suhpo^na  :  indeed,  I  knew  one  of 
them  to  quash  the  whole  court,  on  the  ground  that  the  Board 
of  Police  was  bound  by  law  to  furnish  the  building  for  hold- 
ing the  Court,  and  there  was  no  proof  that  the  building  in 
which  the  court  was  sitting  was  so  furnished.  They  usually, 
however,  commenced  at  the  cajnas — and  kept  quashing  on 
until  they  got  to  the  forthcoming  bond  which,  being  set  aside, 
released  the  security  for  the  debt,  and  then,  generally,  it  was 
no  use  to  quash  any  thing  more.  In  one  court,  forthcoming 
bonds,  to  the  amount  of  some  hundred  thousands  of  dollars, 
were  quashed,  because  the  execution  was  written  ^^  State  of 
Mississippi" — instead  of  ^^  the  State  of  Mississippi,"  the  con- 
stitution requiring  the  style  of  process  to  be  the  State  of 
Mississippi :  a  quashing  process  which  vindicated  the  consti- 
tution at  the  expense  of  the  foreign  creditors  in  the  matter 
of  these  bonds,  almost  as  effectively  as  a  subsequent  vindica- 
tion in  respect  of  other  bonds,  about  which  more  clamor  was 
raised. 

Attachments  were  much  resorted  to,  there  beino;  about 


56  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

that  time  as  the  pressure  was  coming  on,  a  lively  stampede 
to  Texas.  It  became  the  interest  of  the  debtors  and  their 
securities,  and  of  rival  creditors,  to  quash  these,  and  quashed 
they  were,  almost  without  exception.  J.  H.  was  sheriff  of 
W.,  and  used  to  keep  a  book  in  which  he  noted  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  cases  called  on  the  docket.  Opposite  nearly  eve 
ry  attachment  case,  was  the  brief  annotation — ''  quashed  for 
the  lack  of  form."  This  fatality  surprised  me  at  first,  as  the 
statute  declared  the  attachment  law  should  be  liberally  con 
strued,  and  ga^e  a  form,  and  the  act  required  only  the  sub 
stantial  requisites  of  the  form  to  be  observed  :  but  it  seems 
the  form  given  for  the  bond  in  the  statute,  varied  materially 
from  the  requirements  of  the  statute  in  other  portions  of  the 
act :  and  so  the  circuit  courts  held  the  forms  to  be  a  sort  of 
legislative  gull  trap,  by  following  which,  the  creditor  lost  his 
debt. 

This  ingenious  turn  for  quibbling  derived  great  assistance 
and  many  occasions  of  exercise  from  the  manner  in  which 
business  had  been  done,  and  the  character  of  the  officials  who 
did  it,  or  rather  who  didn't  do  it.  The  justices  of  the  peace, 
probate  judges,  and  clerks,  and  sheriffs,  were  not  unfrequently 
in  a  state  of  as  unsophisticated  ignorance  of  conventionalities 
as  could  be  desired  by  J.  J.  Eousseau  or  any  other  eulogist 
of  the  savage  state.  They  were  all  elected  by  the  people 
who  neither  knew  nor  cared  whether  they  were  qualified  or 
not.  If  they  were  ''  good  fellows  "  and  wanted  the  office, 
that  is,  were  too  poor  and  lazy  to  support  themselves  in  any 
other  way,  that  was  enough.      If  poor  John  Eogers,  with 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  57 

nine  small  children  and  one  at  the  breast,  had  been  in  Mis- 
sissippi instead  of  Smithfield,  he  could  have  got  any  office  he 
wanted,  that  is,  if  he  had  quit  preaching  and  taken  to  treat- 
ing. The  result  of  these  official  blunders  was,  that  about 
every  other  thing  done  at  all,  was  done  wrong :  indeed,  the 
only  question  was  as  between  void  and  voidable.  Even  in 
capital  cases,  the  convictions  were  worth  nothing — the  record 
not  showing  enough  to  satisfy  the  High  Court  that  the  pris- 
oner was  tried  in  the  county,  or  at  the  place  required  by  law, 
or  that  the  grand  jury  were  freeholders,  &c.,  of  the  county 
where  the  offence  was  committed,  or  that  they  had  found  a 

bill     They  had  put  an  old  negro,  Cupid,  in  C county, 

in  question  for  his  life,  and  convicted  him  three  times,  but 
the  conviction  never  would  stick.  The  last  time  the  jury 
brought  him  in  guilty,  he  was  very  composedly  eating  an 
apple.  The  sheriff  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  idea  of  being 
hung.  "  Hung,"  said  he — '^  hung  !  You  don't  think  they 
are  going  to  hang  me,  do  you  ?  I  don't  mind  these  little 
circuit  judges :  wait  till  old  Shurkey  says  the  word  in  the 
High  Court,  and  then  it  will  be  time  enough  to  be  getting 
ready." 

But  if  quashing  was  the  general  order  of  the  day,  it  was 
the  special  order  when  the  State  docket  was  taken  up. 
Such  quashing  of  indictments  !  It  seemed  as  by  a  cui'ious 
display  of  skill  in  missing,  the  pleader  never  could  get  an 
indictment  to  hold  water.  I  recollect  S.,  who  was  prosecut- 
ing ^ro  tern,  for  the  State,  convicted  a  poor  Indian  of  mur- 
der, the  Indian  having  only  counsel  volunteering  on  his 
3* 


58  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

arraignment ;  S.  turned  around  and  said  with  emphatic  com 
placency :  "  I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  there  is  a  fatality  attend- 
ing my  indictments."  ^'  Yes,"  rejoined  B.,  "  they  are  gen- 
erally quashed." 

It  was  in  criminal  trials  that  the  juniors  flourished. 
We  went  into  them  with  the  same  feeling  of  irresponsibility 
that  Allen  Fairfield  went  into  the  trial  of  poor  Peter  Pee- 
ble's  suit  vs.  Plainstaines,  namely — that  there  was  but  little 
danger  of  hurting  the  case.  Any  ordinary  jury  would  have 
acquitted  nine  cases  out  of  ten  without  counsel's  instigating 
them  thereto — to  say  nothing  of  the  hundred  avenues  of  es- 
cape through  informalities  and  technical  points.  In  fact, 
criminals  were  so  unskilfully  defended  in  many  instances, 
that  the  jury  had  to  acquit  in  spite  of  the  counsel.  Almost 
any  thing  made  out  a  case  of  self-defence — a  threat — a  quar- 
rel— an  insult — going  armed,  as  almost  all  the  wild  fellows 
did — shooting  from  behind  a  corner,  or  out  of  a  store  door, 
in  front  or  from  behind — it  was  all  self-defence  !  The  only 
skill  in  the  matter,  was  in  getting  the  right  sort  of  a  jury, 
which  fact  could  be  easily  ascertained,  either  from  the  gene- 
ral character  of  the  men,  or  from  certain  discoveries  the 
defendant  had  been  enabled  to  make  in  his  mingling  among 
^'  his  friends  and  the  public  generally," — for  they  were  all, 
or  nearly  all,  let  out  on  bail  or  without  it.  Usually,  the 
sheriff,  too,  was  a  friendly  man,  and  not  inclined  to  omit  a 
kind  service  that  was  likely  to  be  remembered  with  gratitude 
at  the  next  election. 

The  major  part  of  criminal  cases,  except  misdemeanors, 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  59 

were  for  killing,  or  assaults  with  intent  to  kill.  They  were 
usually  defended  upon  points  of  chivalry.  The  iron  rules 
of  British  law  were  too  tyrannical  for  free  Americans,  and 
too  cold  and  unfeeling  for  the  hot  blood  of  the  sunny  south. 
They  were  denounced  accordingly,  and  practically  scouted 
from  Mississippi  judicature,  on  the  broad  ground  that  they 
were  unsuited  to  the  genius  of  American  institutions  and 
the  American  character.  There  was  nothing  technical  in 
this,  certainly. 

But  if  the  case  was  a  hopeless  or  very  dangerous  one, 
there  was  another  way  to  get  rid  of  it.  "  The  world  was  all 
before  "  the  culprit  ^'  where-  to  choose."  The  jails  were  in 
such  a  condition — generally  small  log  pens — that  they  held 
the  prisoner  very  little  better  than  did  the  indictment :  for 
the  most  part,  they  held  no  one  but  Indians,  who  had  no 
friend  outside  who  could  help  them,  and  no  skill  inside  to 
prize  out.  It  was  a  matter  of  free  election  for  the  culprit 
in  a  desperate  case?  whether  he  would  remain  in  jail  or  not ; 
and  it  is  astonishing  how  few  exercised  their  privilege  in 
favor  of  staying.  The  pains  of  exile  seemed  to  present  no 
stronger  ha^t  to  expatriation,  than  the  jail  doors  or  win- 
dows. 

The  inefficiency  of  the  arresting  officers,  too,  was  gener- 
ally such  that  the  malefactor  could  wind  up  his  affairs  and 
leave  before  the  constable  was  on  his  track.  If  he  gave  bail, 
there  were  the  chances  of  breaking  the  bond  or  recognizance, 
and  the  assurance  against  injury,  derive^  from  the  fact  that 
the  recognizors  were  already  broke. 


60  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

The  aforesaid  leaders  carried  it  with  a  high  hand  over 
us  lawycrlings.  If  they  took  nothing  by  their  false  clamor,  • 
they  certainly  lost  nothing  by  sleeping  on  their  rights,  or  by 
failing  to  claim  all  they  were  entitled  to.  What  they  couldn't 
get  by  asking  the  court,  they  got  by  sneering  and  brow-beat- 
ing. It  was  pleasant  to  watch  the  countenances  of  some  of 
them  when  one  of  us  made  a  motion,  or  took  a  point,  or  ask- 
ed a  question  of  a  witness  that  they  disapproved  of  They 
could  sneer  like  Malgroucher,  and  scold  like  Madame  Cau- 
dle, and  hector  like  Bully  Ajax. 

We  had  a  goodly  youth,  a  little  our  senior  but  more 
their  junior,  a  goodly  youth  from  the  Republic  of  South 
Carolina,  Jim  T.  by  name.  The  elders  had  tried  his  mettle  : 
he  wouldn't  fag  for  them,  but  stood  up  to  them  like  a  man. 
When  he  came  to  the  bar,  Sam  J.  made  a  motion  at  him  on 
the  motion  docket,  requiring  him  to  produce  his  original 
book  of  entries  on  the  trial  or  be  non  suit.  (He  had  brought 
an  action  of  assumpsit  on  a  blacksmith's  account.)  When 
the  case  was  called,  Sam  demanded  whether  the  book  was  in 
court.  Jim  told  him  ^'  No,  and  it  wouldn't  be,"  and  denied 
his  right  to  call  for  it ;  whereupon,  Sam  let  the  motion  go, 
and  suffered  Jim  T.  to  go  on  and  prove  the  account  and  get 
the  verdict ;  a  feat  worthy  of  no  little  praise.  Jim  was  equal 
to  any  of  them  in  law,  knowledge  and  talent,  and  superior  in 
application  and  self  confidence,  if  that  last  could  be  justly 
said  of  mere  humanity.  He  rode  over  us  rough-shod,  but  we 
forgave  him  for  it  in  consideration  of  his  worrying  the  elders, 
and  standing  up  to  the  rack.     He  was  the  best  lawyer  of  his 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  61 

age  I  had  ever  seen.  He  had  accomplished  himself  in  the 
elegant  science  of  special  pleading, — had  learned  all  the  arts 
of  confusing  a  case  by  all  manner  of  pleas  and  motions,  and 
took  as  much  interest  in  enveloping  a  plain  suit  in  all  the 
cobwebs  of  technical  defence  as  Yidocq  ever  took  in  laying 
snares  for  a  rogue.  He  could  "  entangle  justice  in  such  a 
web  of  law,"  that  the  blind  hussey  could  have  never  found 
her  way  out  again  if  Theseus  had  been  there  to  give  her  the 
clew.  His  thought  by  day  and  his  meditation  by  night, 
was  special  pleas.  He  loved  a  demurrer  as  Domine  Dobien- 
sis  loved  a  pun — with  a  solemn  affection.  He  could  draw 
a  volume  of  pleas  a  night,  each  one  so  nearly  presenting  a 
regular  defence,  that  there  was  scarcely  any  telling  whether 
it  hit  it  or  not.  If  we  replied,  ten  to  one  he  demurred  to 
the  replication,  and  would  assign  fifteen  special  causes  of  de- 
murrer in  as  many  minutes.  If  we  took  issue,  we  ran  an 
imminent  risk  of  either  being  caught  up  on  the  facts,  or  of 
having  the  judgment  set  aside  as  rendered  on  an  immaterial 
issue.  It  was  always  dangerous  to  demur,  for  the  demurrer 
being  overruled,  the  defendant  was  entitled  to  judgment 
final.  Cases  were  triable  at  the  first  term,  if  the  writ  had 
been  served  twenty  days  before  court.  It  may  be  seen,  there- 
fore, at  a  glance,  that,  with  an  overwhelming  docket,  and 
without  books,  or  time  to  consult  them  if  at  hand,  and  with- 
out previous  knowledge,  we  were  not  reposing  either  on  a 
bed  of  roses  or  of  safety.  Jim  T.  was  great  on  variances,  too. 
If  the  note  was  not  described  properly  in  the  declaration, 
we  were  sure  to  catch  it  before  the  jury  :  and,  if  any  point 


62  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

could  be  made  on  the  proofs,  he  was  sure  to  make  it.  How 
we  trembled  when  we  began  to  read  the  note  to  the  jury  ! 
And  how  ominous  seemed  the  words  ''  I  object" — of  a  most 
cruel  and  untimely  end  about  being  put  to  our  case.  How 
many  cases  where,  on  a  full  presentment  of  the  legal  merits 
of  them,  there  was  no  pretence  of  a  defence,  he  gained,  it  is  im- 
possible to  tell.  But  if  the  ghosts  of  the  murdered  victims 
could  now  arise,  Macbeth  would  have  had  an  easy  time  of  it 
compared  with  Jim  T.  How  we  admired,  envied,  feared  and 
hated  him  !  With  what  a  bold,  self-relying  air  he  took  his 
points  !  With  what  sarcastic  emphasis  he  replied  to  our  de- 
fences and  half  defences  !  We  thought  that  he  knew  all  the 
law  there  was :  and  when,  in  a  short  time,  he  caught  the  old 
leaders  up,  we  thought  if  we  couldn't  be  George  Washington, 
how  we  should  like  to  be  Jim  T. 

He  has  risen  since  that  time  to  merited  distinction  as  a 
ripe  and  finished  lawyer:  yet,  ^4n  his  noon  of  fame,"' he  nev- 
er so  tasted  the  luxury  of  power, — never  so  knew  the  bliss 
of  envied  and  unapproached  preemenence,  as  when  in  the  old 
log  court-houses  he  was  throwing  the  boys  right  and  left  as 
fast  as  they  came  to  him,  by  pleas  dilatory,  sham  and  meri- 
torious, demurrers,  motions  and  variances.  So  infallible  was 
his  skill  in  these  infernal  arts,  that  it  was  almost  a  tempting 
of  Providence  not  to  employ  him. 

I  never  thought  Jim  acted  altogether  fairly  by  squire  A. 
The  squire  had  come  to  the  bar  rather  late  in  life,  and  though 
an  excellent  justice  and  a  sensible  man,  was  not  profoundly 
versed  in  the  metaphysics  of  special  pleading.     He  was  par 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  63 

ticularly  pleased  when  lie  got  to  a  jury  on  •  a  plain  note,'  and 
particularly  annoyed  when  the  road  was  blocked  up  by  pleas 
in  abatement  and  demurrers  or  special  pleas  in  bar.  He 
had  the  most  unlimited  admiration  of  Jim.  Indeed,  he  had 
an  awful  reverence  for  him.  He  looked  up  to  him  as  Bos- 
well  looked  up  to  Sam  Johnson,  or  Timothy  to  Paul.  The 
squire  had  a  note  he  was  anxious  to  get  judgment  on.  He 
had  declared  with  great  care  and  after  anxious  deliberation. 
Not  only  was  the  declaration  copied  from  the  most  approv- 
ed precedent,  but  the  common  counts  were  all  put  in  with 
all  due  punctilios,  to  meet  every  imaginable  phase  the  case 
could  assume.  Jim  found  a  variance  in  the  count  on  the 
note  :  but  how  to  get  rid  of  the  common  counts  was  the  dif- 
ficulty. He  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  however,  went 
up  to  A.  in  the  court-house,  and  threw  himself  into  a  pas- 
sion. ^'  Well,"  said  he,  with  freezing  dignity — ^'  I  see,  sir 
you  have  gone  and  put  the  common  counts  in  this  declara- 
tion— do  I  understand  you  to  mean  them  to  stand?  I  desire 
to  be  informed,  sir  ?  "  ^^  Why,  y-e-s,  that  is,  I  put  'em  there 

— but  look  here,   H ,  what  are  you  mad  at  ?     What's 

wrong  ?  "  ''  What's  wrong  ?  " — a  pretty  question  1  Do  you 
pretend,  sir,  that  my  client  ever  borrowed  any  money  of 
yours — that  yours  ever  paid  out  money  for  mine  ?  Did  your 
client  ever  give  you  instructions  to  sue  mine  for  borrowed 
money  ?  No,  sir,  you  know  he  didn't.  Is  that  endorsed  on 
the  writ  ?  No,  sir.  Don't  you  know  the  statute  requires 
the  cause  of  action  to  be  endorsed  on  the  capias  ad  resjum- 
dendum  1    I  mean  to  see  whether  an  action  for  a  malicious 


64  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

suit  wouldn't  lie  for  tliis  ;  and  shall  move  to  strike  out  all 
these  counts  as  multifarious  and  incongruous  and  heteroge- 
neous." '^  Well,  Jim,  don't  get  mad  about  it,  old  fellow — I 
took  it  from  the  books."  "Yes,  from  the  English  books — but 
didn't  you  know  we  don't  govern  ourselves  by  the  British 
statute? — if  you  don't,  I'll  instruct  you."  ''Now  ,"  said  A., 
"  Jim,  hold  on — all  I  want  is  a  fair  trial — if  you  will  let  me 
go  to  the  jmy,  I'll  strike  out  these  common  counts."  "  Well," 
said  Jim,  ^''  I ivill  tliistime^  as  it  is  you;  but  let  this  be  a 
warning  to  you,  A.,  how  you  get  to  suing  my  clients  on  pro- 
miscuous, and  fictitious,  and  pretensed  causes  of  action." 

Accordingly  they  joined  issue  on  the  count  in  chief — A. 
offered  to  read  his  note — H.  objected — it  was  voted  out,  and 
A.  was  nonsuited.  ''  Now,"  said  Jim,  '•  that  is  doing  the 
thing  in  the  regular  way.  See  how  pleasant  it  is  to  get  on 
v/ith  business  when  the  rules  are  observed  !  " 


The  case  of  most  interest  at  the  fall  term  of  N — e  court, 
1837,  was  the  State  of  Mississippi  vs.  Major  Foreman,  charg- 
ed with  assault  with  intent  to  kill  one  Tommy  Peabody,  a 
Yankee  schoolmaster  in  the  neighborhood  of  M — ville.  The 
District  Attorney  being  absent,  the  court  appointed  J.  T.  to 
prosecute.  All  the  preliminary  motions  and  points  of  order 
having  been  gone  through,  and  having  failed  of  success,  the 
defendant  had  to  go  to  trial  before  the  jury.  The  defendant 
being  a  warm  democrat,  selected  T.  M. ,  the  then  leader  of 
that  party,  and  Washington  B.  T. ,  then  a  rising  light  of  the 
same  political  sect,  to  defend  him.     The  evidence  was  not 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  65 

very  clear  or  positive.  It  seemed  that  an  altercation  had 
arisen  at  the  grocery  (fashionably  called  doggery),  between 
a  son  of  the  defendant  and  the  schoolmaster,  which  led  to 
the  shooting  of  the  pistol  by  the  younger  F.  at  the  aforesaid 
Thomas,  as  the  said  Thomas  was  making  his  way  with  equal 
regard  to  speed  of  transit  and  safety  of  conveyance  from  that 
locality.  As  it  was  Thomas's  business  to  teach  the  young 
idea  to  shoot,  he  had  no  idea  of  putting  to  hazard  ''  the  de- 
lightful task"  by  being  shot  himself:  and  by  thinking  him 
of  ^^  what  troubles  do  environ  the  man  that  meddles  with  cold 
iron"  on  the  drawing  thereof,  resolved  himself  into  a  com- 
mittee of  safety,  and  proceeded  energetically  to  the  dispatch 
of  the  appropriate  business  of  the  board.  But  fast  as  Thom- 
as travelled,  a  bevy  of  mischievous  buckshot,  as  full  of  dev- 
ilment as  Thomas's  scholars  just  escaped  from  school,  rushed 
after,  and  one  of  them,  striking  him  about  two  feet  above 
the  calf  of  his  right  leg,  made  his  seat  on  the  scholastic  tri- 
pod for  a  while  rather  unpleasant  to  him.  In  fact,  Thomas 
suifered  a  good  deal  in  that  particular  region  in  which  he 
had  been  the  cause  of  much  suffering  in  others.  Thomas 
also  added  to  the  fun  naturally  attaching,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  mercurial  and  reckless  population  of  the  time,  to  a  Yan- 
kee schoolmaster's  being  shot  while  running,  in  so  tender  a 
point,  by  clapping  his  hands  behind  at  the  fire,  and  bellowing 
out  that  the  murderer  had  blown  out  his  brains  !  A  mistake 
very  pardonable  in  one  who  had  come  fresh  from  a  country 
where  pistols  were  not  known,  and  who  could  not  be  expect- 
ed, under  these  distressing  circumstances,  to  estimate,  with 
much  precision,  the  effect  of  a  gun-shot  wound. 


b13  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Young  Foreman,  immediately  after  the  pistol  went  off, 
followed  its  example.  And  not  being  of  a  curious  turn,  did 
not  come  back  to  see  what  the  sheriff  had  done  with  a  docu- 
ment he  had  for  him,  though  assured  that  it  related  to  im- 
portant business.  The  proof  against  him — as  it  usually  was 
against  any  one  who  couldn't  be  hurt  by  it— was  clear  enough, 
but  it  was  not  so  clear  against  his  father.  The  Major  was 
there,  had  participated  in  the  quarrel,  and  about  the  time  of 
the  firing,  a  voice  the  witness  took — but  wasn't  certain — to 
be  the  Major's,  was  heard  to  cry  out,  ''Shoot !  Shoot !  "  and, 
shortly  after  the  firing,  the  Major  was  heard  to  halloo  to 
Peabody,  ''  Eun — Run,  you  d — d  rascal — run  !  "  This  was 
about  the  strength  of  the  testimony.  The  Major  was  a  gen- 
tleman of  about  fifty-five — of  ruddy  complexion,  which  he 
had  got  out  of  a  jug  he  kept  under  his  bed  of  cold  nights, 
without  acknowledging  his  obligations  for  the  loan — about 
five  feet  eight  inches  high  and  nearly  that  much  broad.  Na- 
ture or  accident  had  shortened  one  leg,  so  that  he  limped 
when  he  walked.  His  eyes  stood  out  and  were  streaked  like 
a  boy's  white  alley — and  he  wore  a  ruffled  shirt ;  the  same, 
perhaps,  which  he  had  worn  on  training  days  in  Georgia,  but 
which  did  not  match  very  well  with  a  3'ellow  linsey  vest, 
and  a  pair  of  copperas-colored  jeans  pantaloons  he  had 
squeezed  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  over  his  protuberant 
paunch :  on  the  whole,  he  was  a  pretty  good  live  parody  on 
an  enormous  goggle-eyed  sun  perch. 

He  had  come  from  Georgia,  where  he  had  been  a  major 
in  the  militia,  if  that  is  not  tautology ;    for  I  believe  that 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  67 

every  man  that  ever  comes  from  Georgia  is  a  major, — repay- 
ing the  honor  of  the  commission  or  title  by  undeviating  fidel- 
ity to  the  democratic  ticket.  He  would  almost  as  soon  been 
convicted  as  to  have  been  successfully  defended  by  a  whig 
lawyer. 

Old  F.  held  up  his  head  for  some  time — indeed,  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  mirth  that  was  going  on  during  the  testimony, 
very  much.  But  when  J.  T.  began  to  pour  broadside  after 
broadside  into  him,  and  bring  up  fact  after  fact  and  appeal 
after  appeal,  and  the  court-house  grew  still  and  solemn,  the 
old  fellow  could  stand  it  no  longer.  Like  the  Kentucky 
militia  at  New  Orleans,  he  ingloriously  fled,  sneaking  out 
when  no  one  was  looking  at  him.  The  sheriff,  however, 
soon  missed  him,  and  seeing  him  crossing  the  bridge  and 
moving  towards  the  swamp,  raised  a  posse  and  followed  after. 
The  trial  in  the  mean  time  proceeded — as  did  the  Major. 

T  said  he  was  defended  in  part  by  TV.  B.  T. 

You  didn't  know  "Wash  ?  Well,  you  missed  a  good 
deal.  He  would  have  impressed  you.  He  was  about 
thirty  years  old  at  the  time  I  am  writing  of.  He  came  to 
N.  from  East  Tennessee,  among  whose  romantic  mountains 
he  had  ^'  beat  the  drum  ecclesiastic"  as  a  Methodist  preacher. 
He  had,  however,  doffed  the  cassock,  or  rather,  the  shad- 
belly,  for  the  gown.  He  had  fallen  from  grace — not  a  high 
fall — and  having  warred  against  the  devil  for  a  time — a  quar- 
ter or  more — Dalgetty-like,  he  got  him  a  law  license,  and 
took  arms  on  the  other  side.  His  mind  was  not  cramped, 
nor  his  originality  fettered  by  technical  rules  or  other  learn- 


08  SKETCHES    OF   THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ing.  His  voice,  had  not  affectation  injured  the  effect  of  it, 
was  remarkably  fine,  full,  musical  and  sonorous,  and  of  any 
degree  of  compass  and  strength.  He  was  as  fluent  of  words 
as  a  Frenchman.  He  was  never  known  to  falter  for  a  word, 
nd  if  he  ever  paused  for  an  idea,  he  paused  in  vain.  He 
practised  on  his  voice  as  on  an  organ,  and  had  as  many  ups 
and  downs,  high  keys  and  low,  as  many  gyrations  and  wind- 
ings as  an  opera  singer  or  a  stage  horn.  H.  Gr — y  used  to 
say  of  him  that  he  just  shined  his  eyes,  threw  up  his  arms, 
twirled  his  tongue,  opened  his  mouth,  and  left  the  consequen- 
ces to  heaven.  He  practised  on  the  injunction  to  the  apos- 
tles, and  took  no  thought  what  he  should  say,  but  spoke 
without  labor — mental  or  physical.  To  add  to  the  charms 
of  his  delivery,  he  wore  a  poppaw  smile,  a  sort  of  sickly- 
sweet  expression  on  his  countenance,  that  worked  like  Do- 
ver's powders  on  the  spectator. 

After  J.  T.  had  concluded  his  opening  speech,  Washing- 
ton rose  to  open  for  the  defence.  The  speech  was  a  remark- 
able specimen  of  forensic  eloquence.  It  had  all  the  charms 
of  Counsellor  Phillips'  most  ornate  efforts,  lacking  only  the 
ideas.  Great  was  the  sensation  when  AVash.  turned  upon 
the  prosecutor.  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  said  the  orator, 
"  this  prosecutor  is  one  of  the  vilest  ingrates  that  ever 
lived  since  the  time  of  Judas  Iscariot ;  for,  gentlemen,  did 
you  not  hear  from  the  witnesses,  that  when  this  prosecutor 
was  in  the  very  extremity  of  his  peril,  my  client,  moved  by 
the  tenderest  emotions  of  pity  and  compassion,  shouted  out. 
Run  !  run  !  you  d — d   rascal — run  !'     It  is  true  (lowering 


*     THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  69 

his  voice  and  smiling),  gentlemen,  he  said  '  you  d — d  rascal,' 
but  the  honorable  court  will  instruct  you  that  that  was  mere- 
ly descriptio  personcB?''     The  effect  was  prodigious. 

After  Washington  had  made  an  end,  old  Tallabola  rose 
slowly,  as  if  oppressed  by  the  weight  of  his  subject.  Now 
T.  never  made  a  jury  speech  without  telling  an  anecdote 
Whatever  else  was  omitted  the  anecdote  had  to  come.  It  is 
true,  the  point  and  application  w^ere  both  sometimes  hard  to 
see  ;  and  it  is  also  true  that  as  T's  stock  was  by  no  means 
extensive,  he  had  to  make  up  in  repetition  what  he  lacked 
in  variety.  He  had,  however,  one  stand-by  which  never 
failed  him.  He  might  be  said  to  have  chartered  it.  He 
had  told  it  until  it  had  got  to  be  a  necessity  of  speech. 
The  anecdote  was  a  relation  of  a  Georgia  major's  prowess 
in  war.  It  ran  thus  :  The  major  was  very  brave  when  the 
enemy  was  at  a  distance,  and  exhorted  his  men  to  fight  to 
the  death ; — the  enemy  came  nearer — the  major  told  his  sol- 
diers to  fight  bravely,  but  to  be  prudent ; — the  foe  came  in 
sight,  their  arms  gleaming  in  the  sunshine — and  the  major 
told  the  men  that,  if  they  could  not  do  belter,  they  ought  to 
retreat ;  and  added  he,  '^  being  a  little  lame,  I  believe  / 
will  leave  now."  And  so,  said  T.,  it  was  with  the  prosecutor. 
At  length  after  a  long  speech,  T.  concluded.  J.  T.  rose  to 
reply.  He  said,  before  proceeding  to  the  argument,  he 
would  pay  his  respects  to  his  old  acquaintance,  the  anecdote 
of  the  Georgia  major.  He  had  known  it  a  long  while,  in- 
deed almost  as  long  as  he  had  known  his  friend  T.  It  had 
afforded  him  amusement  for  many  courts — how  many  he 


70     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

couldn't  now  stop  to  count.  Knowing  the  major  to  have  been 
drafted  into  Mr.  T's  speeches  for  many  a  campaign,  he  had 
honed  the  war-worn  veteran  had  been  discharged  from  duty 
and  pensioned  oflf,  in  consideration  of  long  and  hard  usage, 
or  at  least,  that  he  was  resting  on  furlough ;  but  it  seems  he 
was  still  in  active  service.  His  friend  had  not  been  very 
happy  in  his  anecdote  on  other  occasions,  but,  he  must  say, 
on  this  occasion  he  was  most  felicitously  uiihajopy ;  for  the 
DEFENDANT  was  a  major — he  was  a  Georgia  major  too  ;  un- 
fortunately, he  was  a  little  lame  also ;  and,  to  complete  the 
parallel,  "  in  the  heat  of  this  action,  on  looking  around,"  said 
J.  T.,  ''  I  find  he  has  left  !  "  T.  jumped  up — ^'  No  evidence 
of  that,  Mr.  H.  Confine  j^ourself  to  the  record,  if  you 
please."  "Well,"  said  J.  T.,  '' gentlemen,  my  friend  is  a 
little  restive.  You  may  look  around,  and  judge  for  your 
selves."  Tallabola  never  told  that  anecdote  any  more  ; — 
he  had  to  get  another. 

The  jury  having  been  sufficiently  confused  as  to  the  law 
by  about  twenty  abstract  propositions  bearing  various  signi 
fications,  and  some  of  them  having  no  relation  to  the  facts, 
(the  legislature,  in  its  excessive  veneration  for  the  sanctity  of 
jury  trial,  having  prohibited  the  judges  from  charging  in  an  in- 
telligible way,)  retired  from  the  bar  to  consider  of  their  ver- 
dict. In  a  few  moments  they  returned  into  court.  But  where 
was  the  prisoner  !  Like  Lara,  he  wouldn't  come.  The  court 
refused  to  receive  the  verdict  in  the  absence  of  the  defendant. 
Finally,  after  waiting  a  long  while^  the  Major  was  brought, 
an  officer  holding  on  to  each  arm,  and  a  crowd  following  at 


THE    BENCH    AND    THE    BAR.  7^ 

his  heels.  (The  Major  had  been  caught  in  the  swamp.) 
When  he  came  in,  he  thought  he  was  a  gone  sucker.  The 
court  directed  the  clerk  th  call  over  the  jury  :  they  w^ere 
called,  and  severally  answered  to  their  names.  The  perspi- 
ration rolled  from  the  Major's  face — his  eyes  stuck  out  as 
if  he  had  been  choked.  At  the  end  of  the  call,  the  judge 
asked  "Are  you  agreed  on  your  verdict  ?"  The  foreman 
answered  "  Yes,"  and  handed  to  the  clerk  the  indictment 
on  which  the  verdict  was  endorsed.  The  clerk  read  it  slow- 
ly. "  We — the  jury — find  the — de — fen — dant  (the  Major 
held  his  breath)  not  guilty."  One  moment  more  and  he 
had  fainted.  He  breathed  easy,  then  uttering  a  sort  of  re- 
lieving groan  shortly  after,  he  came  to  Tallabola — ''  Tal," 
said  he,  blubbering  and  wiping  his  nose  on  his  cuff,  "  I'm 
going  to  quit  the  dimmycratic  party  and  jine  the  whigs." 
"  Why,  Major."  said  Tal,  "what  do  you  mean  ?  you're  one 
of  our  chief  spokes  at  your  box.  Don't  you  believe  in  our 
doctrines  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  do ;  but  after  my 
disgraceful  run  I'm  not  fit  to  be  a  dimmycrat  any  longer — 
I'd  disgrace  the  party — and  am  no  better  than  a  dratted, 
blue-bellied,  federal  whig  !  " 


72  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIME?    OF    ALABAMA. 


HOW  THE  TIMES  SERVED  THE  YIEGINI- 
ANS.  VIRGINIANS  IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY. 
THE  RISE,  DECLINE,  AND  FALL  OF  THE 
RAG  EMPIRE. 

The  disposition  to  be  proud  and  vain  of  one's  country,  and 
to  boast  of  it,  is  a  natural  feeling,  indulged  or  not  in  res- 
pect to  the  pride,  vanity,  and  boasting,  according  to  the 
character  of  the  native:  but,  with  a  Virginian,  it  is  a  pas- 
sion. It  inheres  in  him  even  as  the  flavor  of  a  York  river 
oyster  in  that  bivalve,  and  no  distance  of  deportation,  and 
no  trimmings  of  a  gracious  prosperity,  and  no  pickling  in 
the  sharp  acids  of  adversity,  can  destroy  it.  It  is  a  part  of 
the  Virginia  character — just  as  the  flavor  is  a  distinctive 
part  of  the  oyster — '^  which  cannot,  save  by  annihilating,  die.'' 
It  is  no  use  talking  about  it — the  thing  may  be  right,  or 
wrong  : — like  Falstaff's  victims  at  Gadshill,  it  is  past  praying 
for  :  it  is  a  sort  of  cocoa  grass  that  has  got  into  the  soil, 
and  has  so  matted  over  it,  and  so  fibred  through  it,  as  to 
have  become  a  part  of  it ;  at  least,  there  is  no  telling  which 
is  the  grass  and  which  is  the  soil ;  and  certainly  it  is  useless 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  73 

labor  to  try  to  root  it  out.  You  may  destroy  the  soil,  but 
3^ou  can't  root  out  tlie  grass. 

Patriotism  with  a  Virginian  is  a  noun  personal.  It  is 
the  Virginian  himself  and  something  over.  He  loves  Vir- 
ginia ^:>er  se  ancT  propter  se :  he  loves  her  for  herself  and 
for  himself — because  she  is  Virginia  and — every  thing  else 
beside.  He  loves  to  talk  about  her  :  out  of  the  abundance 
of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh.  It  makes  no  odds  where 
he  goes,  he  carries  Virginia  with  him  ;  not  in  the  entirety 
always — but  the  little  spot  he  came  from  is  Virginia — as 
Swedenborg  says  the  smallest  part  of  the  brain  is  an  abridg- 
ment of  all  of  it.  "  Ccelu7n  non  ani7mwi  mutant  qui 
trans  mare  currunt^'^  was  made  for  a  Virginian.  He 
never  gets  acclimated  elsewhere  ;  he  never  loses  citizenship 
to  the  old  Home.  The  right  of  expatriation  is  a  pure  abstrac- 
tion to  him.  He  may  breathe  in  Alabama,  but  he  lives  in 
Virginia.  His  treasure  is  there,  and  his  heart  also.  If  he 
looks  at  the  Delta  of  the  Mississippi,  it  reminds  him  of 
James  River  ^'  low  grounds  ;"  if  he  sees  the  vast  prairies  of 
Texas,  it  is  a  memorial  of  the  meadows  of  the  Valley. 
Richmond  is  the  centre  of  attraction,  the  depot  of  all  that 
is  grand,  great,  good  and  glorious.  "  It  is  the  Kentucky  of 
a  place,"  which  the  preacher  described  Heaven  to  be  to  the 
Kentucky  congregation. 

Those  who  came  many  years  ago  from  the  borough  towns, 
especially  from  the  vicinity  of  Williamsburg,  exceed,  in  at- 
tachment to  their  birthplace,  if  possible,  the  emigres  from 
the  metropolis.  It  is  refreshing  in  these  costermonger  times, 
4 


74  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

to  hear  them  speak  of  it : — thej  remember  it  when  the  old 
burg  was  the  seat  of  fashion,  taste,  refinemfent,  hospitality, 
wealth,  wdt,  and  all  social  graces  ;  when  genius  threw  its 
spell  over  the  public  assemblages  and  illumined  the  halls  of 
justice,  and  when  beauty  brightened  the  social  hour  with  her 
unmatched  and  matchless  brilliancy. 

Then  the  spirited  and  gifted  youths  of  the  College  of  old 
William  and  Mary,  some  of  them  just  giving  out  the  first 
scintillations  of  the  genius  that  afterwards  shone  refulgent 
in  the  forum  and  the  senate,  added  to  the  attractions  of  a 
society  gay,  cultivated  and  refined  beyond  example — even  in 
the  Old  Dominion.  A  hallowed  charm  seems  to  rest  upon 
the  venerable  cit}^,  clothing  its  very  dilapidation  in  a  drape- 
ry of  romance  and  of  serene  and  classic  interest :  as  if  all 
the  «weet  and  softened  splendor  which  invests  the  "  Midsum- 
mer Night's  Dream"  were  poured  in  a  flood  of  mellow  and 
poetic  radiance  over  the  now  quiet  and  half  "  deserted  vil- 
lage." There  is  something  in  the  shadow  from  the  old  col- 
lege walls,  cast  by  the  moon  upon  the  grass  and  sleeping  on 
the  sward,  that  throws  a  like  shadow  soft,  sad  and  melancho- 
ly upon  the  heart  of  the  returning  pilgrim  who  saunters  out 
to  view  again,  by  moonlight,  his  old  Alma  Mater — the  nurs- 
ing mother  of  such  a  list  and  such  a  line  of  statesmen  and 
heroes. 

There  is  nothing  presumptuously  ffoward  in  this  Virgin- 
lanism.  The  Virginian  does  not  make  broad  his  phylacteries 
and  crow  over  the  poor  Carolinian  and  Tennesseeian.  He 
does  not  reproach  him  with  his  misfortune   of  birthplace. 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  75 

No,  he  thinks  the  affliction  is  enough  without  the  triumph. 
The  franchise  of  having  been  born  in  Virginia,  and  the  pre- 
rogative founded  thereon,  are  too  patent  of  honor  and  dis- 
tinction to  be  arrogantly  pretended.  The  bare  mention  is 
enough.  He  finds  occasion  to  let  the  fact  be  known,  and 
then  the  fact  is  fully  able  to  protect  and  take  care  of  itself. 
Like  a  ducal  title,  there  is  no  need  of  saying  more  than  to 
name  it:  modesty  then  is  a  becoming  and  expected  virtue  ; 
forbearance  to  boast  is  true  dignity. 

The  Virginian  is  a  magnanimous  man.  He  never  throws 
up  to  a  Yankee  the  fact  of  his  birthplace.  He  feels  on  the 
subject  as  a  man  of  delicacy  feels  in  alluding  to  a  rope  in  the 
presence  of  a  person,  one  of  whose  brothers  ''  stood  upon 
nothing  and  kicked  at  the  U.  S.,"  or  to  a  female  indiscretion, 
where  there  had  been  scandal  concerning  the  family.  So  far 
do  they  carry  this  re^.nement,  that  I  have  known  one  of  my 
countrymen,  on  occasion  of  a  Bostonian  owning  where  he  was 
born,  generously  protest  that  he  had  never  heard  of  it  before. 
As  if  honest  confession  half  obliterated  the  shame  of  the  fact. 
Yet  he  does  not  lack  the  grace  to  acknowledge  worth  or  mer- 
it in  another,  wherever  the  native  place  of  that  other :  for  it 
is  a  eommoiKthing  to  hear  them  say  of  a  neighbor,  ^'  he  is  a 
clever  fellow,  though  he  did  come  from  New  Jersey  or  even 
Connecticut." 

In..p'0%tics  the  Virginian  is  learned  much  beyond  what  is 
writt^ — for  they  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  speaking  on  that 
prolific  subject,  especially  by  one  or  two  Randolphs  and  any 
number  of  Barbours.     They  read  the  same  papers  here  they 


76  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

read  in  Virginia — the  Kiclimond  'Enquirer  and  the  Ixich 
mond  Whig.  The  democrat  stoutly  asseverates  a  fact,  and 
gives  the  Enquirer  as  his  authority  with  an  air  that  means  to 
say,  tJiat  settles  it :  while  the  whig  quoted  Hampden  Pleas- 
ants with  the  same  confidence.  But  the  faculty  of  personal 
izing  every  thing  which  the  exceeding  social  turn  of  a  Vir- 
ginian gives  him,  rarely  allowed  a  reference  to  the  paper,  eo 
nomine ;  but  made  him  refer  to  the  editor  :  as  "  Ritchie 
said  "  so  and  so,  or  ''  Hampden  Pleasants  said  "  this  or  that. 
When  two  of  opposite  politics  got  together,  it  was  amusing, 
if  you  had  nothing  else  to  do  that  day,  to  hear  the  discussion. 
I  never  knew  a  debate  that  did  not  start  ah  tirhe  condita. 
They  not  only  went  back  to  first  principles,  but  also  to  first 
times ;  nor  did  I  ever  hear  a  discussion  in  which  old  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  did  not  figure — as  if  an  inter- 
minable dispute  had  been  going  on  for  so  many  generations 
between  those  disputatious  personages ;  as  if  the  quarrel  had 
begun  before  time,  but  was  not  to  end  with  it.  But  the 
strangest  part  of  it  to  me  was,  that  the  dispute  seemed  to  be 
going  on  without  poor  Adams  having  any  defence  or  cham- 
pion ;  and  never  waxed  hotter  than  when  both  parties  agreed 
in  denouncing  the  man  of  Braintree  as  the  worst  of  public 
sinners  and  the  vilest  of  political  heretics.  They  both  agreed 
on  one  thing,  and  that  was  to  refer  the  matter  to  the  Reso- 
lutions of  1798-99  ;  which  said  Resolutions,  like  Groldsmith's 
^'Good  Natured  Man,"  ai'bitrating  between  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Croaker,  seemed  so  impartial  that  they  agreed  with  both  par- 
ties on  every  occasion. 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  77 

Nor  do  I  recollect  of  hearing  any  question  debated  that 
did  not  resolve  itself  into  a  question  of  constitution — strict 
construction,  &c., — the  constitution  being  a  thing  of  that  cu- 
rious virtue  that  its  chief  excellency  consisted  in  not  allow- 
ing the  government  to  do  any  thing ;  or  in  being  a  regular 
prize  fighter  that  knocked  all  laws  and  legislators  into  a  cocked 
hat,  except  those  of  the  objector's  party. 

Frequent  reference  was  reciprocally  made  to  "  gorgonSj 
hydras,  and  chimeras  dire,"  to  black  cockades,  blue  lights, 
Essex  juntos,  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  some  other  mystic 
entities — but  who  or  what  these  monsters  were,  I  never  could 
distinctly  learn ;  and  was  surprised,  on  looking  into  the  his- 
tory of  the  country,  to  find  that,  by  some  strange  oversight, 
no  allusion  was  made  to  them. 

Great  is  the  Virginian's  reverence  of  great  men,  that  is 
to  say,  of  great  Yirginians.  This  reverence  is  not  Unitarian. 
He  is  a  Polytheist.  He  believes  in  a  multitude  of  Virginia 
Gods.  As  the  Eomans  of  every  province  and  village  had 
their  tutelary  or  other  divinities,  besides  having  divers  na- 
tional gods,  so  the  Virginian  of  every  county  has  his  great 
man,  the  like  of  whom  cannot  be  found  in  the  new  country 
he  has  exiled  himself  to.  This  sentiment  of  veneration  for 
talent,  especially  for  speaking  talent, — this  amiable  propen- 
sity to  lionize  men,  is  not  peculiar  to  any  class  of  Virginians 
among  us  :  it  abides  in  all.  I  was  amused  to  hear  "  old  Cul- 
pepper," as  we  call  him  (by  nickname  derived  from  the  county 
he  came  from),  declaiming  in  favor  of  the  Union.  "  "What, 
gentlemen,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  sonorous  swell — ''what, 


78      SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

burst  up  this  glorious  Union  !  and  who,  if  this  Union  is  iov\ 
up^  could  write  another  ?  Nobody  except  Henry  Clay  and 
J —  S.  B — ,  of  Culpepper — and  may  be  they  wouldn't — and 
wliat  then  would  you  do  for  another  ?  " 

The  greatest  compliment  a  Virginian  can  ever  pay  to  a 
speaker,  is  to  say  that  he  reminds  him  of  a  Col.  Broadhorn 
or  a  Captain  Smith,  who  represented  some  royal-named  coun- 
ty some  forty  years  or  less  in  the  Virginia  House  of  Dele- 
gates ;  and  of  whom,  the  auditor,  of  course,  has  heard,  as  ho 
made  several  speeches  in  the  capitol  at  Eichmond.  But 
the  force  of  the  compliment  is  somewhat  broken,  by  a  long 
narrative,  in  which  the  personal  reminiscences  of  the  speaker 
go  back  to  sundry  sketches  of  the  Virginia  statesman's  efforts, 
and  recapitulations  of  his  sayings,  interspersed  par  j^ciren- 
tliese^  with  many  valuable  notes  illustrative  of  his  pedigree 
and  performances  ;  the  whole  of  which,  given  with  great  his- 
torical fidelity  of  detail,  leaves  nothing  to  be  wished  for  ex- 
cept the  point,  or  rather,  two  points,  the  gist  and  the  period. 
'  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  Virginia  is  the  land  of  orators, 
heroes  and  statesmen  ;  and  that,  directly  or  indirectl}^,  she 
has  exerted  an  influence  upon  the  national  councils  nearly  as 
great  as  all  the  rest  of  the  States  combined.  It  is  wonderful 
that  a  State  of  its  size  and  population  should  have  turned  out 
such  an  unprecedented  quantum  of  talent,  and  of  talent  as 
various  in  kind  as  prodigious  in  amount.  She  has  reason  to 
be  proud ;  and  the  other  States  so  largely  in  her  debt  (for, 
from  Cape  May  to  Puget's  Sound  she  has  colonized  the  other 
States  and  the  territories  with  her  surplus  talent,)  ought  to 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  79 

allow  her  the  harmless  privilege  of  a  little  bragging.  In  the 
showy  talent  of  oratory  has  she  especially  shone.  To  ac- 
complish her  in  this  art  the  State  has  been  turned  into  a 
debating  society,  and  while  she  has  been  talking  for  the 
benefit  of  the  nation,  as  she  thought,  the  other,  and,  by  na- 
ture, less  favored  States,  have  been  doing  for  their  own. 
Consequently,  what  she  has  gained  in  reputation,  she  has 
lost  in  wealth  and  material  aids.  Certainly  the  Virginia 
character  has  been  less  distinguished  for  its  practical  than 
its  ornamental  traits,  and  for  its  business  qualities  than  for 
its  speculative  temper.  Cut  bono  and  utilitarianism,  at  least 
until  latterly,  were  not  favorite  or  congenial  inquiries  and 
subjects  of  attention  to  the  Virginia  politician.  What  the 
Virginian  was  upon  his  native  soil,  that  he  was  abroad  ;  in- 
deed, it  may  be  said  that  the  amor  patrice^  strengthened  by 
absence,  made  him  more  of  a  conservative  abroad  than  he 
would  have  been  if  he  had  staid  at  home  ;  for  most  of  them 
here  would  not,  had  they  been  consulted,  have  changed 
either  of  the  old  constitutions. 

It  is  far,  however,  from  my  purpose  to  treat  of  such 
themes.  I  only  glance  at  them  to  show  their  influence  on 
the  character  as  it  was  developed  on  a  new  theatre. 

Eminently  social  and  hospitable,  kind,  humane  and  gen- 
erous is  a  Virginian,  at  home  or  abroad.  They  are  so  by 
nature  and  habit.  These  qualities  and  their  exercise  devel- 
ope  and  strengthen  other  virtues.  By  reason  of  these  social 
traits,  they  necessarily  become  well  mannered,  honorable, 
spirited,  and  careful  of  reputation,  desirous  of  pleasing,  and 


80  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

skilled  ill  the  accomplishments  which  please.  Their  in 
sular  position  and  sparse  population,  mostly  rural,  and  ^asy 
but  not  affluent  fortunes  kept  them  from  the  artificial  refine 
ments  and  the  strong  temptations  which  corrupt  so  much  of 
the  society  of  the  old  world  and  some  portions  of  the  new 
There  was  no  character  more  attractive  than  that  of  a  young 
Virginian,  fifteen  years  ago,  of  intelligence,  of  good  family, 
education  and  breeding. 

It  was  of  the  instinct  of  a  Virginian  to  seek  society  :  he 
belongs  to  the  gregarious,  not  to  the  solitary  division  of 
animals  ;  and  society  can  only  be  kept  up  by  grub  and  gab- 
something  to  eat,  and,  if  not  something  to  talk  about,  talk. 
Accordingly  they  came  accomplished  already  in  the  knowl- 
edge and  the  talent  for  these  important  duties. 

A  Virginian  could  always  get  up  a  good  dinner.  He 
could  also  do  his  share — a  full  hand's  work — in  disposing 
of  one  after  it  was  got  up.  The  qualifications  for  hostman- 
ship  were  signal — the  old  TJdaller  himself,  assisted  by  Claud 
Halrco,  could  not  do  up  the  thing  in  better  style,  or  with  a 
heartier  relish,  or  a  more  cordial  hospitality.  In  iietite 
manners — the  little  attentions  of  the  table,  the  filling  up  of 
the  chinks  of  the  conversation  with  small  fugitive  observa- 
tions, the  supplying  the  hooks  and  eyes  that  kejpt  the  discourse 
together,  the  genial  good  humor,  which,  like  that  of  the 
family  of  the  good  Vicar,  made  up  in  laughter  what  was 
wanting  in  wit — in  these,  and  in  the  science  of  getting  up 
and  in  getting  through  a  picnic  or  chowder  party,  or  fish  fry, 
the  Virginian,  like   Eclipse,  was  first,  and  there  was  no  sec* 


HOW    THE    TIIVIES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  81 

ond.  Great  was  he  too  at  mixing  an  apple  toddy,  or  mint 
julep,  where  ice  could  be  got  for  love  or  money ;  and  not  de- 
ficient, by  any  means,  when  it  came  to  his  turn  to  do  honor  to 
his  own  fabrics.  It  was  in  this  department,  that  he  not 
only  shone  but  outshone,  not  merely  all  others  but  himself. 
Here  he  was  at  bome  indeed.  His  elocution,  his  matter, 
his  learning,  his  education,  were  of  the  first  order.  He  could 
discourse  of  every  thing  around  him  with  an  accuracy  and  a 
fulness  which  would  have  put  Coleridge's  or  Mrs.  Ellis's  ta- 
ble talk  to  the  blush.  Every  dish  was  a  text,  horticulture, 
hunting,  poultry,  fishing — (Isaac  Walton  or  Daniel  Webster 
would  have  been  charmed  and  instructed  to  hear  him  dis- 
course piscatory- wise,) — a  slight  divergence  in  favor  of  fox- 
chasing  and  a  detour  towards  a  horse-race  now  and  then,  and 
continual  parentheses  of  recommendation  of  particular  dishes 
or  glasses — Oh  !  I  tell  you  if  ever  there  was  an  interesting 
man  it  was  he.  Others  might  be  agreeable,  but  he  was  fasci- 
nating, irresistible,  not-to-be-done-without. 

In  the  fulness  of  time  the  new  era  had  set  in — the  era 
of  the  second  great  experiment  of  independence  :  the  experi- 
ment, namely,  of  credit  without  capital,  and  enterprise  with- 
out honesty.  The  Age  of  Brass  had  succeeded  the  Arcadi- 
an period  when  men  got  rich  by  saving  a  part  of  their  earn- 
ings, and  lived  at  their  own  cost  and  in  ignorance  of  the  new 
plan  of  making  fortunes  on  the  profits  of  what  they  owed. 
A  new  theory,  not  found  in  the  works  on  political  economy, 
was  broached.     It  was  found  out  that  the  prejudice  in  favor 

of  the  metals  (brass  excluded)  was  an  absurd  superstition ; 

4* 


.  62     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

and  thatj  in  reality,  any  thing  else,  which  the  parties  inter 
ested  in  giving  it  currency  chose,  might  serve  as  a  represen 
tative  of  value  and  medium  for  exchange  of  property  ;  and 
as  gold  and  silver  had  served  for  a  great  number  of  years  as 
representatives,  the  republican  doctrine  of  rotation  in  office 
required  they  should  give  way.  Accordingly  it  was  decided 
that  Rags,  a  very  familiar  character,  and  very  popular  and 
easy  of  access, 'should  take  their  place.  Rags  belonged  to 
the  school  of  progress.  He  was  representative  of  the  then 
Young  America.  His  administration  was  not  tame.  It  was 
very  spirited.  It  was  based  on  the  Bonapartist  idea  of 
keeping  the  imagination  of  the  people  excited.  The  leading 
fiscal  idea  of  his  system  was  to  democratize  capital,  and  to 
make,  for  all  purposes  of  trade,  credit  and  enjoyment  of 
wealth,  the  man  that  had  no  money  a  little  richer,  if  any  thing, 
than  the  man  that  had  a  million.  The  principle  of  success 
and  basis  of  operation,  though  inexplicable  in  the  hurry  of  the 
time,  is  plain  enough  now  :  it  was  faith.  Let  the  public  be- 
lieve that  a  smutted  rag  is  money,  it  is  money  :  in  other 
words,  it  was  a  sort  of  financial  biology,  which  made,  at 
night,  the  thing  conjured  for,  the  thing  that  was  seen,  so  far 
as  the  patient  was  concerned,  while  the  fit  was  on  him — ex- 
cept that  now  a  man  does  not  do  his  trading  when  under  the 
mesmeric  influence  :  in  the  flush  times  he  did. 

This  country  was  just  settling  up.  Marvellous  accounts 
had  gone  forth  of  the  fertility  of  its  virgin  lands  ;  and  the 
productions  of  the  soil  were  commanding  a  price  remunera- 
ting to  slave  labor  as  it  had  never  been  remunerated  before. 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  83 

Emigrants  came  flocking  in  from  all  quarters  of  the  Union, 
especially  from  the  slaveholding  States.  The  new  country 
seemed  to  be  a  reservoir,  and  every  road  leading  to  it  a  va- 
grant stream  of  enterprise  and  adventure.  Money,  or  what 
passed  for  money,  was  the  only  cheap  thing  to  be  had.  Ev- 
ery cross-road  and  every  avocation  presented  an  opening, — 
through  which  a  fortune  was  seen  by  the  adventurer  in  near 
perspective.  Credit  was  a  thing  of  course.  To  refuse  it — 
if  the  thing  was  ever  done — were  an  insult  for  which  a  bowie- 
knife  were  not  a  too  summary  or  exemplary  a  means  of  re- 
dress. The  State  banks  were  issuing  their  bills  by  the 
sheet,  like  a  patent  steam  printing-press  its  issues  ;  and  no 
other  showing  was  asked  of  the  applicant  for  the  loan  than 
an  authentication  of  his  great  distress  for  money.  Finance, 
even  in  its  most  exclusive  quarter,  had  thus  already  got,  in 
this  wonderful  revolution,  to  work  upon  the  principles  of 
the  charity  hospital.  If  an  overseer  grew  tired  of  supervis- 
ing a  plantation  and  felt  a  call  to  the  mercantile  life,  even 
if  he  omitted  the  compendious  method  of  buying  out  a  mer- 
chant wholesale,  stock,  house  and  good  will,  and  laying  down, 
at  once,  his  bull- whip  for  the  yard-stick — all  he  had  to  do 
was  to  go  on  to  New- York,  and  present  himself  in  Pearl- 
street  with  a  letter  avouching  his  citizenship,  and  a  clean 
shirt,  and  he  was  regularly  given  a  through  ticket  to  speedy 
bankruptcy. 

Under  this  stimulating  process  prices  rose  like  smoke. 
Lots  in  obscure  villages  were  held  at  city  prices ;  lands, 
bought  at  the  minimum  cost  of  government,  were  sold   at 


84      SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA 

from  thirty  to  forty  dollars  per  acre,  and  considered  diri 
cheap  at  that.  In  short,  the  country  had  got  to  be  a  full 
ante -type  of  California,  in  all  except  the  gold.  Society  was 
wholly  unorganized :  there  was  no  restraining  public  opinion : 
the  law  was  well-nigh  powerless — and  religion  scarcely  was 
heard  of  except  as  furnishing  the  oaths  and  technics  of  pro- 
fanity. The  world  saw  a  fair  experiment  of  what  it  would 
have  been,  if  the  fiat  had  never  been  pronounced  which  de 
creed  subsistence  as  the  price  of  labor. 

Money,  got  without  work,  by  those  unaccustomed  to  it, 
turned  the  heads  of  its  possessors,  and  they  spent  it  with  a 
recklessness  like  that  with  whioh  they  gained  it.  The  pur 
suits  of  industry  neglected,  riot  and  coarse  debauchery  filled 
up  the  vacant  hours.  "  Where  the  carcass  is,  there  will  the 
eagles  be  gathered  together;"  and  the  eagles  that  flocked  to 
the  Southwest,  were  of  the  same  sort  as  the  black  eagles  the 
Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar  saw  on  his  celebrated  journey  to  the 
Natural  Bridge.  "  The  cankers  of  a  long  peace  and  a  calm 
world  " — there  were  no  Mexican  wars  and  filibuster  expedi- 
tions in  those  days — gathered  in  the  villages  and  cities  by 
scores. 

Even  the  little  boys  caught  the  taint  of  the  general  in- 
fection of  morals  ;  and  I  knew  one  of  them — Jim  Ellett  by 
name — to  give  a  man  ten  dollars  to  hold  him  up  to  bet  at 
the  table  of  a  faro-bank.  James  was  a  fast  youth ;  and  I 
sincerely  hope  he  may  not  fulfil  his  early  promise,  and  some 
day  be  assistxd  iqi  still  higher. 

The  groceries — vulgice — doggeries,  were  in  full  blast  in 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  85 

those  days,  no  village  having  less  than  a  half-dozen  all  busy 
all  the  time :  gaming  and  horse-racing  were  polite  and  well 
pationized  amusements.^  I  knew  a  Judge  to  adjourn  two 
courts  (or  court  twice)  to  attend  a  horse-race,  at  which  he 
officiated  judicially  and  ministerially,  and  with  more  appro- 
priateness than  in  the  judicial  chair.  Occasionally  the  scene 
was  diversified  by  a  murder  or  two,  which  though  perpetra- 
ted from  behind  a  corner,  or  behind  the  back  of  the  deceas- 
ed, whenever  the  accused  chose  to  stand  his  trial,  was  always 
found  to  have  been  committed  in  self-defence,  securing  the 
homicide  an  honorable  acquittal  at  the  hands  of  his  peek's. 

The  old  rules  of  business  and  the  calculations  of  pru- 
dence were  alike  disregarded,  and  profligacy,  in  all  the  de- 
partments of  the  crimen  falsi ^  held  riotous  carnival.  Lar- 
ceny grew  not  only  respectable,  but  genteel,  and  ruffled  it  in 
all  the  pomp  of  purple  and  fine  linen.  Swindling  was  raised 
to  the  dignity  of  the  fine  arts.  Felony  came  forth  from  its 
covert,  put  on  more  seemly  habiliments,  and  took  its  seat 
with  unabashed  front  in  the  upper  places  of  the  synagogue. 
Before  the  first  circles  of  the  patrons  of  this  brilliant  and 
dashing  villainy.  Blunt  Honesty  felt  as  abashed  as  poor  Hal- 
bert  Glendinning  by  the  courtly  refinement  and  supercilious 
airs  of  Sir  Piercie  Shafton. 

Public  office  represented,  by  its  incumbents,  the  state  of 
public  morals  with  some  approach  to  accuracy.  Out  of  six- 
ty-six receivers  of  public  money  in  the  new  States,  sixty-two 
were  discovered  to  be  defaulters ;  and  the  agent,  sent  to 
look    into   the    affairs   of    a   peccant   office-holder   in    the 


86  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

South-West,  reported  him  mijius  some  tens  of  thousands,  but 
advised  the  government  to  retain  him,  for  a  reason  one  of 
j^sop's  fables  illustrates  :  the  agent  ingeniously  surmising 
that  the  appointee  succeeding  would  do  his  stealing  without 
any  regard  to  the  proficiency  already  made  by  his  predeces- 
sor ;  while  the  present  incumbent  would  probably  consider, 
in  mercy  to  the  treasury,  that  he  had  done  something  of  the 
pious  duty  of  providing  for  his  household. 

There  was  no  petit  larceny  :  there  was  all  the  difference 
between  stealing  by  the  small  and  the  ''  operations"  manip- 
ulated, that  there  is  between  a  single  assassination  and  an 
hundred  thousand  men  killed  in  an  opium  war.  The  placeman 
robbed  with  the  gorgeous  magnificence  of  a  Governor-General 
of  Bengal. 

The  man  of  straw,  not  worth  the  buttons  on  his  shirt, 
with  a  sublime  audacity,  bought  lands  and  negroes,  and  pro- 
vided times  and  terms  of  payment  which  a  Wall-street  capi- 
talist would  have  to  re-cast  his  arrangements  to  meet. 

Oh,  Paul  Clifford  and  Augustus  Tomlinson,  philosophers 
of  the  road,  practical  and  theoretical  !  if  ye  had  lived  to 
see  those  times,  how  great  an  improvement  on  your  ruder 
scheme  of  distribution  would  these  gentle  arts  have  seemed  ; 
arts  whereby,  without  risk,  or  loss  of  character,  or  the  vul- 
gar barbarism  of  personal  violence,  the  same  beneficial  results 
flowed  with  no  greater  injury  to  the  superstitions  of  moral 
education  ! 

With  the  change  of  times  and  the  imagination  of  wealth 
easily  acquired  came  a  change  in  the  thoughts  and  habits  of 
th^  people.     "  Old  times  were  changed — old  manners  gone." 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  87 

Visions  of  affluence,  such  as  crowded  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson's 
mind,  when  advertising  a  sale  of  Thrale's  Brewery,  and  cast- 
ing a  soft  sheep's  eye  towards  Thrale's  widow,  thronged  upon 
the  popular  fancy.  Avarice  and  hope  joined  partnership. 
It  was  strange  how  the  reptile  arts  of  humanity,  as  at  a  faro 
table,  warmed  into  life  beneath  their  heat.  The  cacoethes 
accrescendi  became  epidemic.  It  seized  upon  the  universal 
community.  The  pulpits  even  w^ere  not  safe  from  its  insid- 
ious invasion.  What  men  anxiously  desire  they  willingly 
believe ;  and  all  believed  a  good  time  was  coming — nay,  had 
come. 

'-'■  Commerce  was  king" — and  Kags,  Tag  and  Bobtail 
his  cabinet  council.  Bags  was  treasurer.  Banks,  chartered 
on  a  specie  basis,  did  a  very  flourishing  business  on  the  promis- 
sory notes  of  the  individual  stockholders  ingeniously  substi- 
tuted in  lieu  of  cash.  They  issued  ten  for  one,  the  one  being 
fictitious.  They  generously  loaned  all  the  directors  could 
not  use  themselves,  and  were  not  choice  whether  Bardolph 
was  the  endorser  for  Falstajff,  or  Falstaff  borrowed  on  his 
own  proper  credit,  or  the  funds  advanced  him  by  Shallow. 
The  stampede  towards  the  golden  temple  became  general  : 
the  delusion  prevailed  far  and  wide  that  this  thing  was  not 
a  burlesque  on  commerce  and  finance.  Even  the  directors 
of  the  banks  began  to  have  their  doubts  whether  the  intend- 
ed swindle  was  not  a  failure.  Like  Lord  Olive,  when  re- 
proached for  extortion  to  the  extent  of  some  millions  in 
Bengal,  they  exclaimed,  after  the  bubble  burst,  "  When  they 
thought  of  what  they  had  got,  and  what  they  might  have  got, 
they  were  astounded  at  their  own  moderation." 


0<5'     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

The  old  capitalists  for  a  wliile  stood  out.  With  the  Tory 
conservatism  of  cash  in  hand,  worked  for,  they  couldn't  re- 
concile their  old  notions  to  the  new  regime.  They  looked 
for  the  thing's  ending,  and  then  their  time.  But  the  stam- 
pede still  kept  on.  Paper  fortunes  still  multiplied — houses 
and  lands  changed  hands — real  estate  see-sawed  up  as  morals 
went  down  on  the  other  end  of  the  plank — men  of  straw, 
corpulent  with  bank  bills,  strutted  past  them  on  'Change. 
They  began,  too,  to  think  there  might  be  something  in  this 
new  thing.  Peeping  cautiously,  like  hedge-hogs  out  of  their 
holes,  they  saw  the  stream  of  wealth  and  adventurers  passing 
by — then,  looking  carefully  around,  they  inched  themselves 
half  way  out — then,  sallying  forth  and  snatching  up  a  mor 
sel,  ran  back ,  until,  at  last,  grown  more  bold,  they  ran  out 
too  with  their  hoarded  store,  in  full  chase  with  the  other  un- 
clean beasts  of  adventure.  They  never  got  back  again. 
Jonah's  gourd  withered  one  night,  and  next  morning  the 
vermin  that  had  nestled  under  its  broad  shade  were  left  un- 
protected, a  prey  to  the  swift  retribution  that  came  upon 
them.  They  were  left  naked,  or  only  clothed  themselves 
with  cursing  (the  Specie  Circular  on  the  United  States  Bank) 
as  with  a  garment.  To  drop  the  figure  :  Shylock  himself 
couldn't  live  in  those  times,  so  reversed  was  every  thing. 
Shaving  paper  and  loaning  money  at  a  usury  of  fifty  per  cent, 
was  for  the  first  time  since  the  Jews  left  Jerusalem,  a  break- 
ing business  to  the  operator. 

The  condition  of  society  may  be  imagined  : — vulgarity — 
ignorance — fussy  and  arrogant  pretension — unmitigated  row- 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  89 

dyisin — bullying  insolence,  if  they  did  not  rule  tlie  hour 
seemed  to  wield  unchecked  dominion.  The  workings  of 
these  choice  spirits  were  patent  upon  the  face  of  society ; 
md  the  modest,  unobtrusive,  retiring  men  of  worth  and  char- 
acter (for  there  were  many,  perhaps  a  large  majority  of  such) 
were  almost  lost  sight  of  in  the  hurly-burly  of  those  strange 
and  shifting  scenes. 

Even  in  the  professions  were  the  same  characteristics 
visible.  Men  dropped  down  into  their  places  as  from  the 
clouds.  Nobody  knew  who  or  what  they  were,  except  as 
they  claimed,  or  as  a  surface  view  of  their  characters  indi- 
cated. Instead  of  taking  to  the  highway  and  magnanimously 
calling  upon  the  wayfarer  to  stand  and  deliver,-  or  to  the 
fashionable  larceny  of  credit  without  prospect  or  design  of 
paying,  some  unscrupulous  horse-doctor  would  set  up  his 
sign  as  ''  Physician  and  Surgeon,"  and  draw  his  lancet  on 
you,  or  fire  at  random  a  box  of  his  pills  into  your  bowels, 
with  a  vague  chance  of  hitting  some  disease  unknown  to  him, 
but  with  a  better  prospect  of  killing  the  patient,  whom  or 
whose  administrator  he  charged  some  ten  dollars  a  trial  for 
his  markmanship. 

A  superannuated  justice  or  constable  in  one  of  the  old 
States  was  metamorphosed  into  a  lawyer ;  and  though  he 
knew  not  the  distinction  between  a  fee  tail  and  a  female^ 
would  undertake  to  construe,  off-hand,  a  will  involving  all 
the  subtleties  of  uses  and  trusts. 

But  this  state  of  things  could  not  last  for  ever :  society 
cannot  always  stand  on  its  head  with  its  heels  in  the  air. 


90  SKETCHES    OF    THE    Fl  USH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

The  Jupiter  Tonans  of  the  White  House  saw  the  mon 
star  of  a  free  credit  prowling  about  like  a  beast  of  apoca- 
lyptic vision,  and  marked  him  for  his  fjrej.  Gathering  all 
his  bohs  in  his  sinewy  grasp,  and  standing  back  on  his  heels, 
and  waving  his  wiry  arm,  he  let  them  all  fly,  hard  and  swift 
upon  all  the  hydra's  heads.  Then  came  a  crash,  as  "  if  the 
ribs  of  nature  broke,"  and  a  scattering,  like  the  bursting  of 
a  thousand  magazines,  and  a  smell  of  brimstone,  as  if  Pan- 
demonium had  opened  a  window  next  to  earth  for  ventilation, 
— and  all  was  silent.  The  beast  never  stirred  in  his  tracks. 
To  get  down  from  the  clouds  to  level  ground,  the  Specie 
Circular  was  issued  without  warning,  and  the  splendid  lie  of 
a  false  credit  burst  into  fragments.  It  came  in  the  midst  of 
the  dance  and  the  frolic — as  Tam  O^Shanter  came  to  dis- 
turb the  infernal  glee  of  the  warlocks,  and  to  disperse  the 
rioters.  Its  effect  was  like  that  of  a  general  creditor's  bill 
in  the  chancery  court,  and  a  marshalling  of  all  the  assets  of 
the  trades-people.  Gen.  Jackson  was  no  fairy ;  but  he  did 
some  very  pretty  fairy  work,  in  converting  the  bank  bills  back 
again  into  rags  and  oak-leaves.  Men  worth  a  million  were 
insolvent  for  two  millions  :  promising  young  cities  marched 
back  again  into  the  wilderness.  The  ambitious  town  plat 
was  rc-anncxcd  to  the  plantation,  like  a  country  girl  taken 
home  from  the  city.  The  frolic  was  ended,  and  what  head- 
aches, and  feverish  limbs  the  next  morning !  The  retreat 
from  Moscow  was  performed  over  again,  and  '•  Devil  take  the 
hindmost "  was  the  tune  to  which  the  soldiers  of  fortune 
marched.     The  only  question  was  as  to  the  means  of  escape, 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  9  . 

and  the  nearest  and  best  route  to  Texas.  The  sheriff  was  as 
busy  as  a  militia  adjutant  on  review  day  ;  and  the  lawyers 
A^ere  mere  wreckers,  earning  salvage.  Where  are  ye  now  my 
■t'uffling  gallants  ?  Where  now  the  braw  cloths  and  watch 
chains  and  rings  and  fine  horses  ?  Alas  !  for  ye — they  are 
glimmering  among  the  things  that  were — the  wonder  of  an 
hour  !  They  live  only  in  memory,  as  unsubstantial  as  the 
promissory  notes  ye  gave  for  them.  When  it  came  to  be 
tested,  the  whole  matter  was  found  to  be  hollow  and  falla- 
cious. Like  a  sum  ciphered  out  through  a  long  column,  the 
first  figure  an  error,  the  whole,  and  all  the  parts  were  wrong, 
throughout  the  entire  calculation. 

Such  is  a  charcoal  sketch  of  the  interesting  region — now 
inferior  to  none  in  resources,  and  the  character  of  its  popula- 
tion— during  the  flush  times  ;  a  period  constituting  an  epi- 
sode in  the  commercial  history  of  the  world — the  reign  of 
humbug,  and  wholesale  insanity,  just  overthrown  in  time  to 
save  the  whole  country  from  ruin.  But  while  it  lasted, 
many  of  our  countrymen  came  into  the  South-West  in  time 
to  get  '•  a  benefit."  The  auri  sacra  fames  is  a  catching  dis- 
ease. Many  Virginians  had  lived  too  fast  for  their  fortunes, 
and  naturally  desired  to  recuperate  :  many  others,  with  a 
competency,  longed  for  wealth  ;  and  others  again,  with  wealth, 
yearned — the  common  frailty — for  still  more.  Perhaps 
some  friend  or  relative,  who  had  come  out,  wrote  back  flat 
tering  accounts  of  the  El  Dorado,  and  fired  with  dissatisfac- 
tion those  who  were  doing  well  enough  at  home,  by  the  report 
of  his  real  or  imagined  success ;  for  who  that  ever  moved 


92  SKETCHES    OF    TILE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

off,  was  not  ^'  doing  well  "  in  the  new  country,  himself  or 
friends  being  chroniclers  ? 

Superior  to  many  of  the  settlers  in  elegance  of  manners 
and  general  intelligence,  it  was  the  weakness  of  the  Yirgini- 
n  to  imagine  he  was  superior  too  in  the  essential  art  of  be- 
ing able  to  hold  his  hand  and  make  his  way  in  a  new  coun- 
try, and  especially  such  a  country,  and  at  such  a  time. 
What  a  mistake  that  was  !  The  times  were  out  of  joint. 
It  was  hard  to  say  whether  it  were  more  dangerous  to  stand 
still  or  to  move.  If  the  emigrant  stood  still,  he  was  con- 
sumed, by  no  slow  degrees,  by  expenses :  if  he  moved,  ten 
to  one  he  went  off  in  a  galloping  consumption,  by  a  ruinous 
investment.  Expenses  then — necessary  articles  about  three 
times  as  high,  and  extra  articles  still  more  extra-priced — 
were  a  different  thing  in  the  new  country  from  what  they 
were  in  the  old.  In  the  old  country,  a  jolly  Virginian,  start- 
ting  the  business  of  free  living  on  a  capital  of  a  plantation, 
and  fifty  or  sixty  negroes,  might  reasonably  calculate,  if  no 
ill  luck  befell  him,  by  the  aid  of  a  usurer,  and  the  occasional 
sale  of  a  negro  or  two,  to  hold  out  without  declared  insol- 
vency, until  a  green  old  age.  His  estate  melted  like  an  es- 
tate in  chancery,  under  the  gradual  thaw  of  expenses  ;  but 
in  this  fast  country,  it  went  by  the  sheer  cost  of  living — 
some  'poher  losses  included — like  the  fortune  of  the  confec- 
tioner in  California,  who  failed  for  one  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars in  the  six  months  keeping  of  a  candy-shop.  But  all  the 
habits  of  his  life,  his  taste,  his  associations,  his  education — 
every  thing — the  trustingness  of  his   disposition — his  want 


HOW    THE    TIMFS    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIAN^.  93 

of  business  qualifications — his  sanguine  temper — all  that  was 
Virginian  in  him,  made  him  the  prey,  if  not  of  imposture, 
at  least  of  unfortunate  speculations.  Where  the  keenest 
jockey  often  was  bit,  what  chance  had  he  ?  About  the  same 
that  the  verdant  Moses  had  with  the  venerable  old  gentle 
man,  his  father's  friend,  at  the  fair,  when  he  traded  the  Yi 
car's  pony  for  the  green  spectacles.  But  how  could  he  be- 
lieve it  ?  how  could  he  believe  that  that  stuttering,  gram- 
marless  Georgian,  who  had  never  heard  of  the  resolutions 
of  '98,  could  beat  him  in  a  land  trade  ?  ''  Have  no  money 
dealings  with  my  father,"  said  the  friendly  Martha  to  Lord 
Nigel,  ''  for,  idiot  though  he  seems,  he  will  make  an  ass  of 
thee."  What  a  pity  some  monitor,  equally  wise  and  equally 
successful  with  old  Trapbois'  daughter,  had  not  been  at  the 
elbow  of  every  Virginian !  ''  Twad  frae  monie  a  blunder 
free'd  him — an'  foolish  notion." 

If  he  made  a  bad  bargain,  how  could  he  expect  to  get 
rid  of  it  ?  He  knew  nothing  of  the  elaborate  machinery  of 
ingenious  chicane, — such  as  feigning  bankruptcy — fraudulent 
conveyances — making  over  to  his  wife — running  property — 
and  had  never  heard  of  such  tricks  of  trade  as  sending  out 
coffins  to  the  graveyard,  with  negroes  inside,  carried  off  by 
sudden  spells  of  imaginary  disease,  to  be  "  resurrected,"  in 
due  time,  grinning,  on  the  banks  of  the  Brazos. 

The  new  philosophy,  too,  had  commended  itself  to  his  specu- 
lative temper.  He  readily  caught  at  the  idea  of  a  new 
spirit  of  the  age  having  set  in,  which  rejected  the  saws  of  Poor 
Richard  as  being  as  much  out  of  date  as  his  almanacs.     He 


94  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLISH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

was  already,  by  the  great  rise  of  property,  compared  to  his 
condition  under  the  old-time  prices,  rich ;  and  Tvhat  were  a 
few  thousands  of  debt,  which  two  or  three  crops  would  pay 
off,  compared  to  the  value  of  his  estate  ?  (He  never  thought 
that  the  value  of  property  might  come  down,  while  the  debt 
was  a  fixed  fact.)  He  lived  freely,  for  it  was  a  liberal  time, 
and  liberal  fashions  were  in  vogue,  and  it  was  not  for  a 
Virginian  to  be  behind  others  in  hospitality  and  liberality. 
He  required  credit  and  security,  and,  of  course,  had  to 
stand  security  in  return.  When  the  crash  came,  and  no 
^'  accommodations  "  could  be  had,  except  in  a  few  instances, 
and  in  those  on  the  most  ruinous  terms,  he  fell  an  easy  vic- 
tim. They  broke  by  neighborhoods.  They  usually  endorsed 
for  each  other,  and  when  one  fell — like  the  child's  play  of 
putting  bricks  on  end  at  equal  distances,  and  dropping  the 
first  in  the  line  against  the  second,  which  fell  against  the 
third,  and  so  on  to  the  last — all  fell ;  each  got  broke  as  secu- 
rity, and  yet  few  or  none  were  able  to  pay  their  own  debts  ! 
So  powerless  of  protection  were  they  in  those  times,  that  the 
witty  H.  G.  used  to  say  they  reminded  him  of  an  oyster, 
both  shells  torn  off/  lying  on  the  beach,  with  the  sea-gulls 
screaming  over  them;  the  only  question  being,  ivhich  should 
^'  gobble  them  up." 

There  was  one  consolation — if  the  Virginian  involved 
himself  like  a  fool,  he  suffered  himself  to  be  sold  out  like  a 
gentleman.  When  his  card  house  of  visionary  projects  came 
tumbling  about  his  ears,  the  next  question  was,  the  one 
Webster  plagiarised — "  Where  am  I  to  go  ?  "     Those  who 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  95 

had  fathers,  uncles,  aunts,  or  other  like  dernier  resorts,  in 
Virginia,  limped  back  with  feathers  moulted  and  crestfallen, 
to  the  old  stamping  ground,  carrying  the  returned  Californi- 
an's  fortune  of  ten  thousand  dollars — six  bits  in  money,  and 
the  balance  in  experience.  Those  who  were  in  the  condition 
of  the  prodigal,  (barring  the  father,  the  calf — the  fatted  one 
I  mean — and  the  fiddle,)  had  to  turn  their  accomplishments 
to  account ;  and  many  of  them,  having  lost  all  by  eating  and 
drinking,  sought  the  retributive  justice  from  meat  and  drink, 
which  might,  at  least,  support  them  in  poverty.  According- 
ly, they  kept  tavern,  and  made  a  barter  of  hospitality,  a  busi- 
ness, the  only  disagreeable  part  of  which  was  receiving  the 
money,  and  the  only  one  I  know  of  for  which  a  man  can  eat 
and  drink  himself  into  qualification.  And  while  I  confess  I 
never  knew  a  Virginian,  out  of  the  State,  to  keep  a  bad 
tavern,  I  never  knew  one  to  draw  a  solvent  breath  from  the 
time  he  opened  house,  until  death  or  the  sheriff  closed  it. 

Others  again  got  to  be,  not  exactly  overseers,  but  some 
nameless  thing,  the  duties  of  which  were  nearly  analogous, 
for  some  more  fortunate  Virginian,  who  had  escaped  the 
wreck,  and  who  had  got  his  former  boon  companion  to  live 
with  him  on  board,  or  other  wages,  in  some  such  relation 
that  the  friend  was  not  often  found  at  table  at  the  dinings 
given  to  the  neighbors,  and  had  got  to  be  called  Mr.  Flour- 
noy  instead  of  Bob,  and  slept  in  an  out-house  in  the  yard, 
and  only  read  the  Enquirer  of  nights  and  Sundays. 

Some  of  the  younger  scions  that  had  been  transplanted 
early,  and  stripped  of  their  foliage  at  a  tender  age,  had  been 


96  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

turned  into  birches  for  the  corrective  discipline  of  youth. 
Yes ;  many,  who  had  received  academical  or  collegiate  edu- 
cations, disregarding  the  allurements  of  the  highway — turn- 
ing from  the  gala-day  exercise  of  ditching — scorning  the 
effeminate  relaxation  of  splitting  rails — heroically  led  the 
Forlorn  Hope  of  the  battle  of  life,  the  corps  of  pedagogues 
of  country  schools — academies^  I  beg  pardon  for  not  saying ; 
for,  under  the  Virginia  economy,  every  cross-road  log-cabin, 
where  boys  were  flogged  from  B-a-k-e-r  to  Constantinople, 
grew  into  the  dignity  of  a  sort  of  runt  college ;  and  the 
teacher  vainly  endeavored  to  hide  the  meanness  of  the  call- 
ing beneath  the  sonorous  sobriquet  of  Professor.  "  Were 
there  no  wars  ?"  Had  all  the  oysters  been  opened  ?  Where 
was  the  regular  army?  Could  not  interest  procure  service 
as  a  deck-hand  ofi  a  steamboat  ?  Did  no  stage- driver,  with  a 
contract  for  running  at  night,  through  the  prairies  in  mid- 
winter, want  help,  at  board  wages,  and  sweet  lying  in  the 
loft,  when  off  duty,  thrown  in  ?  What  right  had  the  Dutch 
Jews  to  monopolize  all  the  peddling  ?  '•  To  such  vile  uses 
may  we  come  at  last,  Horatio,"  The  subject  grows  melan- 
choly. I  had  a  friend  on  whom  this  catastrophe  descended. 
Tom  Edmundson  was  a  buck  of  the  first  head — gay,  witty, 
dashing,  vain,  proud,  handsome  and  volatile,  and,  withal,  a 
dandy  and  lady's  man  to  the  last  intent  in  particular.  He 
had  graduated  at  the  University,  and  had  just  settled  with 
his  guardian,  and  received  his  patrimony  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  in  money.  Being  a  young  gentleman  of  enterprise, 
he  sought  the  alluring  fields  of  South- Western  adventure, 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  9f 

and  found  them  in  this  State.  Before  he  well  knew  the 
condition  of  his  exchequer,  he  had  made  a  permanent  in- 
vestment of  one-half  of  his  fortune  in  cigars,  Champagne, 
trinkets,  buggies,  horses,,  and  current  expenses,  including 
some  small  losses  at  poker,  which  game  he  patronized  merely 
for  amusement ;  and  found  that  it  diverted  him  a  good  deal, 
but  diverted  his  cash  much  more.  He  invested  the  balance, 
on  private  information  kindly  given  him,  in  "  Choctaw 
Floats  ;^''  a  most  lucrative  investment  it  would  have  turned 
out,  but  for  the  facts:  1.  That  the  Indians  never  had  any 
title  ;  2.  The  white  men  who  kindly  interposed  to  act  as 
guardians  for  the  Indians  did  not  have  the  Indian  title  ;  and 
3dly,  the  land,  left  subject  to  entry,  if  the  "  Floats"  had 
been  good,  was  not  worth  entering.  "  These  imperfections 
off  its  head,"  I  know  of  no  fancy  stock  I  would  prefer  to  a 
"  Choctaw  Float."  "  Brief,  brave  and  glorious"  was  ^'  Tom's 
young  career."  When  Thomas  found,  as  he  did  shortly, 
that  he  had  bought  five  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  moonshine, 
and  had  no  title  to  it,  he  honestly  informed  his  landlord  of 
the  state  of  his  "  fiscality,"  and  that  worthy  kindly  consented 
to  take  a  new  buggy,  at  half  price,  in  payment  of  the  old 
balance.  The  horse,  a  nick- tailed  trotter,  Tom  had  raffled 
off;  but  omitting  to  require  cash,  the  process  of  collection 
resulted  in  his  getting  the  price  of  one  chance — the  winner 
of  the  horse  magnanimously  paying  his  subscription.  The 
rest  either  had  gambling  offsets,  or  else  were  not  prepared 
just  at  any  one  particular,  given  moment,  to  pay  up,  though 
always  ready,  generally  and  in  a  general  way. 


J8  sketches    of    the    flush    times    of    ALABAMA. 

Unlike  Lis  namesake,  Tom  and  his  landlady  were  not — 
for  a  sufficient  reason — very  gracious ;  and  so,  the  only 
common  bond,  Tom's  money,  being  gone,  Tom  received 
'^  notice  to  quit ''  in  regular  form. 

In  the  hurly-burly  of  the  times,  I  had  lost  sight  of  Tom 
for  a  considerable  period.  One  day,  as  I  was  travelling 
over  the  hills  in  Greene,  by  a  cross-road,  leading  me  near  a 
country  mill,  I  stopped  to  get  water  at  a  spring  at  the  bot- 
tom of  a  hill.  Clambering  up  the  hill,  after  remounting, 
the  summit  of  it  brought  me  to  a  view,  on  the  other  side, 
through  the  bushes,  of  a  log  country  school-house,  the  door 
being  wide  open,  and  who  did  I  see  but  Tom  Edmundson, 
dressed  as  fine  as  ever,  sitting  back  in  an  arm-chair,  one 
thumb  in  his  waistcoat  armhole,  the  other  hand  brandishing 
a  long  switch,  or  rather  pole.  As  I  approached  a  little 
nearer,  I  heard  him  speak  out  :  ^'  Sir — Thomas  Jefferson, 
of  Virginia,  was  the  author  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence— mind  that.  I  thought  everybody  knew  that — even  the 
Georgians.'^  Just  then  he  saw  me  coming  through  the  bushes 
and  entering  the  path  that  led  by  the  door.  Suddenly  he 
broke  from  the  chair  of  state,  and  the  door  was  slammed  to, 
and  I  heard  some  one  of  the  boys,  as  I  parsed  the  door,  say 
— ''  Tell  him  he  can't  come  in — the  master's  sick."  This  is 
the  last  I  ever  saw  of  Tom.  I  understand  he  afterwards 
moved  to  Louisiana,  where  he  married  a  rich  French  widow, 
having  first,  however,  to  fight  a  duel  with  one  of  her  sons, 
whose  opposition  couldn't  bo  appeased,  until  some  such 
expiatory  sacrifice  to  the  manes  of  his  worthy  father  waf 


tup:  [SCHOOLMASTER  ABROAD,     p.  9S. 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  99 

attempted ;  which  failing,  he  made  rather  a  lame  apology 
for  his  zealous  indiscretion — the  poor  fellow  could  make  no 
other — for  Tom  had  unfortunately  fixed  him  for  visiting  his 
mother  on  crutches  the  balance  of  his  life. 

One  thing  I  will  say  for  the  Virginians — I  never  knew 
one  of  them,  under  any  pressure,  extemporize  a  profession. 
The  sentiment  of  reverence  for  the  mysteries  of  medicine 
and  law  was  too  large  for  a  deliberate  quackery  ;  as  to  the 
pulpit,  a  man  might  as  well  do  his  starving  without  the 
hypocrisy. 

But  others  were  not  so  nice.  I  have  known  them  to  rush, 
when  the  wolf  was  after  them,  from  the  counting-house  or  the 
plantation,  into  a  doctor's  shop  or  a  law  office,  as  if  those 
places  were  the  sanctuaries  from  the  avenger;  some  pretend- 
ing to  be  doctors  that  did  not  know  a  liver  from  a  gizzard, 
administering  medicine  by  the  guess,  without  knowing  enough 
of  pharmacy  to  tell  whether  the  stuff  exhibited  in  the  big- 
bellied  blue,  red  and  green  bottles  at  the  show-windows  of 
the  apothecaries'  shops,  was  given  by  the  drop  or  the  half- 
pint. 

Divers  others  left,  but  what  became  of  them,  I  never 
knew  any  more  than  they  know  what  becomes  of  the  sora 
after   frost. 

Many  were  the  instances  of  suffering;  of  pitiable  mis- 
fortune, involving  and  crushing  whole  families ;  of  pride 
abased ;  of  honorable  sensibilities  wounded  ;  of  the  pro- 
vision for  old  age  destroyed ;  of  the  hopes  of  manhood  over- 
cast •  of  independence  dissipated,  and  the  poor  victim  with- 


100     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

out  help,  or  hope,  or  sympathy,  forced  to  petty  shifts  for  a 
bare  subsistence,  and  a  ground-scuffle,  for  what  in  happier 
days,  he  threw  away.  But  there  were  too  many  examples 
of  this  sort  for  the  expenditure  of  a  useless  compassion  ; 
just  as  the  surgeon  after  a  battle,  grows  case-hardened,  from 
an  excess  of  objects  of  pity. 

My  memory,  however,  fixes  itself  on  one  honored  excep- 
tion, the  noblest  of  the  noble,  the  best  of  the  good.  Old 
Major  Willis  Wormley  had  come  in  long  before  the  new  era* 
He  belonged  to  the  old  school  of  Virginians.  Nothing  could 
have  torn  him  from  the  Virginia  he  loved,  as  Jacopi  Foscari, 
Venice,  but  the  marrying  of  his  eldest  daughter,  Mary,  to  a 
gentleman  of  Alabama.  The  Major  was  something  between, 
or  made  of  about  equal  parts,  of  Uncle  Toby  and  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, with  a  slight  flavor  of  Mr.  Micawber.  He  was  the 
soul  of  kindness,  disinterestedness  and  hospitality.  Love  to 
every  thing  that  had  life  in  it,  burned  like  a  flame  in  his 
large  and  benignant  soul ;  it  flowed  over  in  his  countenance, 
and  glowed  through  every  feature,  and  moved  every  muscle 
in  the  frame  it  animated.  The  Major  lived  freely,  was 
rather  corpulent,  and  had  not  a  lean  thing  on  his  plantations ; 
the  negroes  ;  the  dogs ;  the  horses ;  the  cattle ;  the  very 
chickens,  wore  an  air  of  corpulent  complacency,  and  bustled 
about  with  a  good-humored  rotundity.  There  was  more 
laughing,  singing  and  whistling  at  '^  Hollywood,"  than  would 
have  set  up  a  dozen  Irish  fairs.  The  Major's  wife  had,  from 
a  long  life  of  affection,  and  the  practice  of  the  same  pursuits, 
and  the  indulgence  of  the  same  feelings  and  tastes,  got  so 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  101 

much  like  him,  that  she  seemed  a  feminine  and  modest  edition 
of  himself  Four  daughters  were  all  that  remained  in  the 
family — two  had  been  married  off — and  they  had  no  son. 
The  girls  ranged  from  sixteen  to  twenty-two,  fine,  hearty, 
whole-souled,  wholesome,  cheerful  lasses,  with  constitutions 
to  last,  and  a  flow  of  spirits  like  mountain  springs — not 
beauties,  but  good  housewife  girls,  whose  open  counte- 
nances, and  neat  figures,  and  rosy  cheeks,  and  laughing  eyes, 
and  frank  and  cordial  manners,  made  them,  at  home,  abroad, 
on  horseback  or  on  foot,  at  the  piano  or  discoursing  on  the 
old  English  books,  or  Washington  Irving's  Sketch  Book,  a 
favorite  in  the  family  ever  since  it  was  written,  as  entertain- 
ing and  as  well  calculated  to  ^x  solid  impressions  on  the 
heart,  as  any  four  girls  in  the  country.  The  only  difficulty 
was,  they  were  so  much  alike,  that  you  were  put  to  fault 
which  to  fall  in  love  with.  They  were  all  good  housewives, 
or  women,  rather.  But  Mrs.  Wormley,  or  Aunt  Wormley, 
as  we  called  her,  was  as  far  ahead  of  any  other  woman  in  that 
way,  as  could  be  found  this  side  of  the  Virginia  border.  If  there 
was  any  thing  good  in  the  culinary  line  that  she  couldn't  make, 
I  should  like  to  know  it.  The  Major  lived  on  the  main  stage 
road,  and  if  any  decently  dressed  man  ever  passed  the  house 
after  sundown,  he  escaped  by  sheer  accident.  The  house 
was  greatly  visited.  The  Major  knew  every  body,  and  every- 
body near  him  knew  the  Major.  The  stage  coach  couldn't  stop 
long,  but  in  the  hot  summer  days,  about  noon,  as  the  driver  toot- 
ed his  horn  at  the  top  of  the  red  hill,  two  negro  boys  stood 
opposite  the  door,  with  trays  of  the  finest  fruit,  and  a  pitcher 


102     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

of  cider  for  the  refreshment  of  the  wayfarers.  The  Major 
himself  being  on  the  look-out,  with  his  hands  over  his  eyes, 
bowing — as  he  only  could  bow — vaguely  into  the  coach,  and 
looking  wistfully,  to  find  among  the  passengers  an  acquaint- 
ance whom  he  could  prevail  upon  to  get  out  and  stay  a  week 
with  him.  There  wasn't  a  poor  neighbor  to  whom  the  Major 
had  not  been  as  good  as  an  insurer,  without  premium,  for 
his  stock,  or  for  his  crop  ;  and  from  the  way  he  rendered 
the  service,  you  would  think  he  was  the  party  obliged — as 
he  was. 

This  is  not,  in  any  country  I  have  ever  been  in,  a  money- 
making  business  ;  and  the  Major,  though  he  always  made 
good  crops,  must  have  broke  at  it  long  ago,  but  for  the  for- 
tunate death  of  a  few  Aunts,  after  whom  the  girls  were 
named,  who,  paying  their  several  debts  of  nature,  left  the 
Major  the  means  to  pay  his  less  serious,  but  still  weighty 
obligations. 

The  Major — for  a  wonder,  being  a  Virginian — had  no 
partisan  politics.  He  could  not  have.  His  heart  could  not 
hold  any  thing  that  implied  a  warfare  upon  the  thoughts  or 
feelings  of  others.  He  voted  all  the  time  for  his  friend,  that 
is,  the  candidate  living  nearest  to  him,  regretting,  generally, 
that  he  did  not  have  another  vote  for  the  other  man. 

It  would  have  done  a  Camanche  Indian's  heart  good  to 
see  all  the  family  together — grand-children  and  all — of  a 
winter  evening,  with  a  guest  or  two,  to  excite  sociability  a 
little — not  company  enough  to  embarrass  the  manifestations 
of  affection.     Such  a  concordance — as  if  all  hearts  were  at- 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  103 

tuned  to  the  same  feeling— the  old  lady  knitting  in  the 
corner — the  old  man  smoking  his  pipe  opposite — both  of 
their  fine  faces  radiating  in  the  pauses  of  the  laugh,  the  jest, 
or  the  caress,  the  infinite  satisfaction  within. 

It  was  enough  to  convert  an  abolitionist,  to  see  the  old 
Major  when  he  came  home  from  a  long  journey  of  two  days 
to  the  county  town  ;  the  negroes  running  in  a  string  to  the 
buggy ;  this  one  to  hold  the  horse,  that  one  to  help  the  old 
man  out,  and  the  others  to  inquire  how  he  was  ;  and  to 
observe  the  benignity  with  which — the  kissing  of  the  girls 
and  the  old  lady  hardly  over — he  distributed  a  piece  of 
calico  here,  a  plug  of  tobacco  there,  or  a  card  of  toiv7t 
ginger-bread  to  the  little  snow-balls  that  grinned  around 
him ;  what  was  given  being  but  a  small  part  of  the  gift, 
divested  of  the  kind,  cheerful,  rollicking  way  the  old  fellow 
had  of  giving  it. 

The  Major  had  given  out  his  autograph  (as  had  almost 
every  body  else)  as  endorser  on  three  several  bills  of  exchange, 
of  even  tenor  and  date,  and  all  maturing  at  or  about  the 
same  time.  His  friend's  friend  failed  to  pay  as  he  or  his 
firm  agreed,  the  friend  himself  did  no  better,  and  the  Major, 
before  he  knew  any  thing  at  all  of  his  danger,  found  a  writ 
served  upon  him,  and  was  told  by  his  friend  that  he  was 
dead  broke,  and  all  he  could  give  him  was  his  sympathy  ; 
the  which,  the  Major  as  gratefully  received  as  if  it  was  a 
legal  tender  and  would  pay  the  debt.  The  Major's  friends 
advised  him  he  could  get  clear  of  it ;  that  notice  of 
protest   not  haying  been   sent   to  the    Major's    post-office, 


104  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

released  him;  but  the  Major  wouldn't  hear  of  such  a  defence, 
he  said  his  understanding  was,  that  he  was  to  pay  the  debt  if 
his  friend  didn't  ;  and  to  slip  out  of  it  by  a  quibble,  was 
little  better  than  pleading  the  gambling  act.  Besides, 
what  would  the  lawyers  say  ?  And  what  would  be  said  by 
his  old  friends  in  Virginia,  when  it  reached  their  ears, 
that  he  had  plead  want  of  notice,  to  get  clear  of  a  debt, 
when  every  body  knew  it  was  the  same  thing  as  if  he  had  got 
notice.  And  if  this  defence  were  good  at  law,  it  would  not 
be  in  equity  ;  and  if  they  took  it  into  chancery,  it  mattered 
not  what  became  of  the  case,  the  property  would  all  go,  and 
he  never  could  expect  to  see  the  last  of  it.  No,  no ;  he 
would  pay  it,  and  had  as  well  set  about  it  at  once. 

The  rumor  of  the  Major's  condition  spread  far  and  wide. 
It  reached  old  N.  D.,  ''  an  angel,"  whom  the  Major  had 
"  entertained,"  and  one  of  the  few  that  ever  travelled  that 
road.  He  came,  post  haste,  to  see  into  the  affair  ;  saw  the 
creditor  ;  made  him,  upon  threat  of  defence,  agree  to  take 
half  the  amount,  and  discharge  the  Major  ;  advanced  the 
money,  and  took  the  Major's  negroes — exdept  the  house- 
servants — and  put  them  on  his  Mississippi  plantation  to  work 
out  the  debt. 

The  Major's  heart  pained  him  at  the  thought  of  the 
negroes  going  off^  he  couldn't  witness  it ;  though  he  con- 
soled himself  with  the  idea  of  the  discipline  and  exercise 
being  good  for  the  health  of  sundry  of  them  who  had  con- 
tracted sedentary  diseases. 

The   Major   turned   his  house  into  a   tavern — that   is, 


HOW    THE    TIMES    SERVED    THE    VIRGINIANS.  105 

changed  its  name — put  up  a  sign,  and  three  weeks  after- 
wards, you  couldn't  have  told  that  any  thing  had  happened. 
The  family  were  as  happy  as  ever — the  Major  never  having 
put  on  airs  of  arrogance  in  prosperity,  felt  no  humiliation  in 
adversity ;  the  girls  were  as  cheerful,  as  bustling,  and  as 
light-hearted  as  ever,  and  seemed  to  think  of  the  duties  of 
hostesses  as  mere  bagatelles,  to  enliven  the  time.  The  old 
Major  was  as  profluent  of  anecdotes  as  ever,  and  never  grew 
tired  of  telling  the  same  ones  to  every  new  guest  ;  and  yet, 
the  Major's  anecdotes  were  all  of  Virginia  growth,  and  not 
one  of  them  under  the  legal  age  of  twenty- one.  If  the  Major 
had  worked  his  negroes  as  he  had  those  anecdotes,  he  would 
have  been  able  to  pay  off  the  bills  of  exchange  without  any 
difficulty. 

The  old  lady  and  the  girls  laughed  at  the  anecdotes, 
though  they  must  have  heard  them  at  least  a  thousand  times, 
and  knew  them  by  heart;  for  the  Major  told  them  without 
the  variations  ;  and  the  other  friends  of  the  Major  laughed 
too ;  indeed,  with  such  an  air  of  thorough  benevolence,  and 
in  such  a  truly  social  spirit  did  the  old  fellow  proceed  "  the 
tale  to  unfold,"  that  a  Cassius  like  rascal  that  wouldn't  laugh, 
whether  he  saw  any  thing  to  laugh  at  or  not,  ought  to  have 
been  sent  to  the  Penitentiary  for  life — half  of  the  time  to  be 
spent  in  solitary  confinement, 


106  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


ASSAULT  AND  BATTERY. 

A  trial  came  off  not  precisely  in  our  bailiwick,  but  in  tbe 
neighborhood,  of  great  comic  interest.  It  was  really  a  case 
of  a  good  deal  of  aggravation,  and  the  defendants,  fearing 
the  result,  employed  four  of  the  ablest  lawyers  practising  at 
the  M.  bar,  to  defend  them.  The  offence  charged  was  only 
assault  and  battery ;  but  the  eyidence  showed  a  conspiracy 
to  inflict  great  violence  on  the  person  of  the  prosecutor,  who 
had  done  nothing  to  provoke  it,  and  that  the  attempt  to  ef- 
fect it  was  followed  by  severe  injury  to  him.  The  prosecutor 
was  an  original.  He  had  been  an  old-field  schoolmaster,  and 
was  as  conceited  and  pedantic  a  fellow  as  could  be  found  in  a 
summer's  day,  even  in  that  profession.  It  was  thought  the 
policy  of  the  defence  to  make  as  light  of  the  case  as  possible, 
and  to  cast  as  much  ridicule  on  the  affair  as  they  could.  J. 
E.  and  W.  M.  led  the  defence,  and,  although  the  talents  of 
the  former  were  rather  adapted  to  grave  discussion  than  plea- 
santry, he  agreed  to  doff  hir;  heavy  armor  for  the  lighter  wea- 
pons of  wit  and  ridicule.  M.  was  in  his  element.  He  was 
ut  all  times  and  on  all  occasions  at  home  when  fun  was  to  be 


ASSAULT    AND    BATTERY.  107 

raised  :  the  difficulty  with  him  was  rather  to  restrain  than  to 
create  mirth  and  laughter.  The  case  was  called  and  put  to 
the  jury.  The  witness,  one  Burwell  Shines,  was  called  for 
the  prosecution.  A  broad  grin  was  upon  the  faces  of  the 
counsel  for  the  defence  as  he  came  forward.  It  was  increas- 
ed when  the  clerk  said,  "  Burrell  Shines  come  to  the  book  ;" 
and  the  witness,  with  deliberate  emphasis,  remarked — "  My 
christian  name  is  not  Bitrrell^  but  Burwell — though  I  am 
vulgarly  denominated  by  the  former  epithet."  "  "Well,"  said 
the  clerk,  "  Bur-t^eZ/  Shines  come  to  the  book  and  be 
sworn."  He  it^as  sworn  and  directed  to  take  the  stand.  He 
was  a  picture  1 

He  was  dressed  with  care.  His  toilet  was  elaborate  and 
befitting  the  magnitude  and  dignity  of  the  occasion,  the  part 
he  was  to  fill  and  the  high  presence  into  which  he  had  come. 
He  was  evidently  favorably  impressed  with  his  own  personal 
pulchritude ;  yet,  with  an  air  of  modest  deprecation,  as  if  he 
said  by  his  manner,  "  after  all,  what  is  beauty  that  man 
should  be  proud  of  it,  and  what  are  fine  clothes,  that  the 
wearers  should  put  themselves  above  the  unfortunate  mortals 
who  have  them  not  ?"  .      ♦ 

He  advanced  with  deliberate  gravity  to  the  stand.  There 
he  stood,  his  large  bell-crowned  hat  with  nankeen-colored 
nap  an  inch  long  in  his  hand  ;  which  hat  he  carefully  hand- 
ed over  the  bar  to  the  clerk,  to  hold  until  he  should  get 
through  his  testimony.  He  wore  a  blue  single-breasted  coat 
with  new  brass  buttons ;  a  vest  of  bluish  calico  ;  nankeen 
pants  that  struggled  to  make  both  ends  meet,  but  failed,  by 


108  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

a  few  inches,  in  the  legs,  yet  made  up  for  it  by  fitting  a  little 
better  than  the  skin  every  where  else ;  his  head  stood  upon 
a  shirt  collar  that  held  it  up  by  the  ears,  and  a  cravat  some- 
thing smaller  than  a  table-cloth,  bandaged  his  throat :  his 
face  was  narrow,  long  and  grave,  with  an  indescribable  air  of 
ponderous  wisdom,  which,  as  Fox  said  of  Thurlow,  "  proved 
him  necessarily  a  hypocrite ;  as  it  was  impossible  for  any 
man  to  be  as  wise  as  lie  looked."  Gravity  and  decorum  mark- 
ed every  lineament  of  his  countenance,  and  every  line  of  his 
body.  All  the  wit  of  Hudibras  could  not  have  moved  a  mus- 
cle of  his  face.  His  conscience  would  have  smitten  him  for 
a  laugh  almost  as  soon  as  for  an  oath.  His  hair  was  roach- 
ed  up,  and  stood  as  erect  and  upright  as  his  body ;  and  his 
voice  was  slow,  deep,  in  "  linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out," 
and  modulated  according  to  the  camp-meeting  standard  of 
elocution.  Three  such  men  at  a  country  frolic,  would  have 
turned  an  old  Virginia  Reel  into  a  Dead  March.  He  was 
one  of  Carlyle's  earnest  men.  Cromwell  would  have  made 
him  Ensign  of  the  Ironsides,  and  ex-officio  chaplain  at  first 
sight.  He  took  out  his  pocket  hankerchief,  slowly  unfolded 
it  from  the  shape  in  which  it  came  from  the  washerwoman's, 
and  awaited  the  interrogation.  As  he  waited,  he  spat  on  the 
floor  and  nicely  wiped  it  out  with  his  foot.  The  solicitor  told 
him  to  tell  about  the  difficulty  in  hand.  He  gazed  around 
on  the  court — then  on  the  bar — then  on  the  jury — then  on 
the  crowd — addressing  each  respectively  as  he  turned : 
•'  May  it  please  your  honor — Grentlemen  of  the  bar — Gentle- 
men of  the  jury — Audience.     Before  proceeding  to  give  my 


ASSAULT  AND  BATTERY.  109 

testimonial  observations,  I  must  premise  that  I  am  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Methodist  Episcopal,  otherwise  called  Wesleyan 
persuasion  of  Christian  individuals  One  bright  Sabbath 
morning  in  May,  the  15th  day  of  the  month,  the  past  year, 
while  the  birds  were  singing  their  matutinal  songs  from  the 
trees,  I  sallied  forth  from  the  dormitory  of  my  Seminary,  to 
enjoy  the  reflections  so  well  suited  to  that  auspicious  occa- 
sion. I  had  not  proceeded  far,  before  my  ears  were  accost- 
ed with  certain  Bacehanalian  sounds  of  revelry,  which  pro- 
ceeded" from  one  of  those  haunts  of  vicious  depravity,  located 
at  the  Cross  Eoads,  near  the  place  of  my  boyhood,  and  fash- 
ionably denominated  a  doggery.  No  sooner  had  I  passed 
beyond  the  precincts  of  this  diabolical  rendezvous  of  rioting 
debauchees,  than  I  heard  behind  me  the  sounds  of  approach- 
ing footsteps  as  if  in  pursuit.  Having  heard  previously,  sun- 
dry menaces,  which  had  been  made  by  these  preposterous 
and  incarnadine  individuals  of  hell,  now  on  trial  ^n  prospect 
of  condign  punishment,  fulminated  against  the  longer  contin- 
uance of  my  corporeal  salubrity,  for  no  better  reason  than 
that  I  reprobated  their  criminal  orgies,  and  not  wishing  my 
reflections  to  be  disturbed,  I  hurried  my  steps  with  a  gradual 
accelerated  motion.  Hearing,  however,  their  continued  ad- 
vance, and  the  repeated  shoutings,  articulating  the  murder- 
ous accents,  "  Kill  him  !  Kill  Shadbelly  with  his  praying 
clothes  on !  "  (which  was  a  profane  designation  of  myself 
and  my  religious  profession  ;)  and  casting  my  head  over  my 
left  shoulder  in  a  manner  somehow  reluctantly  thus,  (throw- 
ing his  head  to  one  side,)  and  perceiving  their  near  approx- 


110    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

imation,  I  augmented  my  speed  into  what  miglit  be  denom. 
inated  a  gentle  slope — and  subsequently  augmented  the 
same  into  a  species  of  dog-trot.  But  all  would  not  do. 
Gentlemen,  the  destroyer  came.  As  I  reached  the  fence  and 
was  about  propelling  my  body  over  the  same,  felicitating  my- 
self on  my  prospect  of  escape  from  my  remorseless  pursuers, 
they  arrived,  and  James  William  Jones,  called,  by  nick- 
name. Buck  Jones,  that  red-headed  character  now  at  the  bar 
of  this  honorable  court,  seized  a  fence  rail,  grasped  it  in  both 
hands,  and  standing  on  tip-toe,  hurled  the  same,  with  mighty 
emphasis,  against  my  cerebellum  :  which  blow  felled  me  to 
the  earth.  Straightway,  like  ignoble  curs  upon  a  disabled 
lion,  these  bandit  ruffians  and  incarnadine  assassins  leaped 
upon  me,  some  pelting,  some  bruising,  some  gouging — "  every 
thing  by  turns,  and  nothing  long,"  as  the  poet  hath  it ;  and 
one  of  them,  which  one  unknown  to  me — halving  no  eyes  be- 
hind— inflicted  with  his  teeth,  a  grievous  wound  upon  my 
person — where,  I  need  not  specify.  At  length,  when  thus 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  one  of  those  bright  ideas,  common 
to  minds  of  men  of  genius,  struck  me  :  I  forthwith  sprang 
to  my  feet — drew  forth  my  cutto — circulated  the  same  with 
much  vivacity  among  their  several  and  respective  corporeal 
systems,  and  every  time  I  circulated  the  same  I  felt  their 
iron  grasp  relax.  As  cowardly  recreants,  even  to  their  own 
guilty  friendships,  two  of  these  miscreants,  though  but  slight- 
ly perforated  by  my  cutto,  fled,  leaving  the  other  two,  whom 
I  had  disabled  by  the  vigor  and  energy  of  my  incisions,  pros 
trate  and  in  my  power :  these  lustily  called  for  quartef, 


ASSAULT    AND    BATTERY.  Ill 

shouting  out  ^'  enough  !"  or,  in  their  barbarous  dialect,  being 
as  corrupt  in  language  as  in  morals,  "nuff;  "  Vr'hich  quarter 
I  magnanimously  extended  them,  as  unworthy  of  my  farther 
vengeance,  and  fit  only  as  subject  of  penal  infliction,  at  the 
hands  of  the  offended  laws  of  their  country  ;  to  which  laws 
I  do  now  consign  them  :  hoping  such  mercy  for  them  as  their 
crimes  will  permit ;  which,  in  my  judgment,  (having  read  the 
code,)  is  not  much.  This  is  my  statement  on  oath,  fully  and 
truly,  nothing  extenuating  and  naught  setting  down  in  malice ; 
and,  if  I  have  omitted  any  thing,  in  form  or  substance,  I 
stand  ready  to  supply  the  omission  ;  and  if  I  have  stated  any 
thing  amiss,  I  will  cheerfully  correct  the  same,  limiting  the 
averment,  with  appropriate  modifications,  provisions  and  re- 
strictions. The  learned  counsel  may  now  proceed  more 
.particularly  to  interrogate  me  of  and  respecting  the  pre- 
mises." 

After  this  oration,  Burwell  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow,  and  the  counsel  for  the  State  took  him.  Few 
questions  were  asked  him,  however,  by  that  official  ;  he  con- 
fining himself  to  a  recapitulation  in  simple  terms,  of  what 
the  witness  had  declared,  and  procuring  BurwelPs  assent  to 
his  translation.  Long  and  searching  was  the  cross-examination 
by  the  defendants'  counsel  ;  but  it  elicited  nothing  favorable 
to  the  defence,  and  nothing  shaking,  but  much  to  confirm 
Burwell's  statement. 

After  some  other  evidence,  the  examination  closed,  and 
the  argument  to  the  jury  commenced.  The  solicitor  very 
briefly  adverted  to  the  leading  facts,  deprecated  any  attempt 


112  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

to  turn  the  case  into  ridicule — admitted  that  "the  witness 
was  a  man  of  eccentricity  and  pedantry,  but  harmless  and 
inoffensive — a  man  evidently  of  conscientiousness  and 
respectability  ;  that  he  had  shown  himself  to  be  a  peaceable 
man,  but  when  occasion  demanded,  a  brave  man  ;  that  there 
was  a  conspiracy  to  assassinate  him  upon  no  cause  except  an 
independence,  which  was  honorable  to  him, -and  an  attempt 
to  execute  the  purpose,  in  pursuance  of  previous  threats  and 
severe  injury  by  several  confederates  on  a  single  person, 
and  this  on  the  Sabbath,  and  when  he  was  seeking  to  avoid 
them. 

W.  M.  rose  to  reply.  All  Screamersville  turned  out  to 
hear  him.  William  was  a  great  favorite — the  most  popular 
speaker  in  the  country — had  the  versatility  of  a  mocking- 
bird, an  aptitude  for  burlesque  that  would  have  given  him 
celebrity  as  a  dramatist,  and  a  power  of  acting  that  would 
have  made  his  fortune  on  the  boards  of  a  theatre.  A  rich 
treat  was  expected,  but  it  didn't  come.  The  witness  had 
taken  all  the  wind  out  of  William's  sails.  He  had  rendered 
burlesque  impossible.  The  thing  as  acted  was  more  ludi- 
crous than  it  could  be  as  described.  The  crowd  had  laughed 
themselves  hoarse  already  ;  and  even  M.'s  comic  powers 
seemed  and  were  felt  by  himself  to  be  humble  imitations  of 
a  greater  master.  For  once  in  his  life,  M.  dragged  his  sub- 
ject heavily  along — the  matter  began  to  grow  serious — fun 
failed  to  come  when  M.  called  it  up.  M.  closed  between  a 
lame  argument,  a  timid  deprecation,  and  some  only  tolerable 
humor.     He  was  followed  by  E.,  in  a  discursive,  argument- 


ASSAULT    AND    BATTERY.  113 

ative,  sarcastic,  drag-net  sort  of  speecli,  which  did  all  that 
could  be  done  for  the  defence.^  The  solicitor  briefly  closed 
— seriously  and  confidently  confining  himself  to  a  repetition 
of  the  matters  first  insisted,  and  answering  some  of  the  points 
of  the  counsel. 

It  was  an  ominous  fact  that  a  juror,  before  the  jury 
retired, under  leave  of  the  court,  recalled  a  witness  for  the 
purpose  of  putting  a  question  to  him — the  question  was,  how 
much  the  defendants  were  worth  ;  the  answer  was,  about 
two  thousand  dollars. 

The  jury  shortly  after  returned  into  court  with  a  verdict 
which  ^'  sized  their  pile.'' 


114     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA 


SIMON  SUGGS,   JR.,   ESQ. 
51  Icpl  Siograiit)!!. 

GORRESPONBENCE. 

Office  of  the  Jurist-maker,  ) 
City  of  Got-him,  iSTov.   18,  1852.  ) 

Col.  Slmon  Suggs,  Jr. 

My  Dear  Sir^ — Having  established,  at  great  expense, 
and  from  motives  purely  patriotic  and  disinterested,  a  month- 
ly periodical  for  the  purpose  of  supplying  a  desideratum  in 
American  Literature,  namely,  the  commemoration  and  per- 
petuation of  the  names,  characters,  and  personal  and  profes- 
sional traits  and  histories  of  American  lawyers  and  jurists,  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  soliciting  your  consent  to  be  made 
the  subject  of  one  of  the  memoirs,  which  shall  adorn  the  col- 
umns of  this  Journal.  This  suggestion  is  made  from  my 
knowledge,  shared  by  the  intelligence  of  the  whole  country, 
of  your  distinguished  standing  and  merits  in  our  noble  pro- 
fession; and  it  is  seconded  by  the  wishes  and  requests  of 
many  of  the  most  prominent  gentlemen  in  public  and  private 
life,  who  have  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance. 


SIMOK    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  115 

The  advantages  of  a  work  of  this  sort,  in  its  more  public 
and  general  bearing,  are  so  patent^  that  it  would  be  useless 
for  me  to  refer  to  them.  The  effect  of  the  publication  upon 
the  fame  of  the  individual  commemorated  is,  if  not  equally 
apparent,  at  least,  equally  decided.  The  fame  of  an  Ameri- 
can lawyer,  like  that  of  an  actor,  though  sufficiently  marked 
and  cognizable  within  the  region  of  his  practice,  and  by  the 
witnesses  of  his  performances,  is  nevertheless,  for  the  want 
of  an  organ  for  its  national  dissemination,  or  of  an  enduring 
memorial  for  its  preservation,  apt  to  be  ephemeral,  or,  at 
most,  to  survive  among  succeeding  generations,  only  iia  the 
form  of  unauthentic  and  vague  traditions.  What  do  we  know 
of  Henry  or  of  Grundy  as  lawyers,  except  that  they  were 
eloquent  and  successful  advocates.  But  what  they  did 
was  to  acquire  reputation,  and,  of  course,  the  true  value  of 
it,  is  left  to  conjecture  ;  or,  as  in  the  case  of  the  former,  es- 
pecially, to  posthumous  invention  or  embellishment. 

It  was  the  observation  of  the  great  Pinkney,  that  the 
lawyer's  distinction  was  preferable  to  all  others,  since  it 
was  impossible  to  acquire  in  our  profession,  a  false  or  frau- 
dulent reputation.  How  true  this  aphorism  is,  the  pages  of 
this  L.w  M e  will  abundantly  illustrate. 

The  value,  and,  indeed,  the  fact  of  distinction,  consists 
in  its  imcommonness.  In  a  whole  nation  of  giants,  the 
Welsh  monster  in  Barnum's  Museum  would  be  undistin- 
guished. Therefore,  we — excuse  the  editorial  plural — strive 
to  collect  the  histories  only  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  pro- 
fession in  the  several  States  ;  the  aggregate  of  whom  reaches 


116  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Bome  two  or  three  hundred  names.  Tou  have  undoubtedly 
seen  some  of  the  numbers  of  our  work,  which  will  better  il- 
lustrate our  plan,  and  the  mode  of  its  past,  as  well  as  the 
intended  mode  of  its  future,  execution. 

It  would  be  affectation,  m.y  dear  sir,  to  deny  that  what 
mainly  consoles  us  under  a  sense  of  the  hazardous  nature  of 
such  an  enterprise  to  our  ^personal  fortunes — pardon  the  pun, 
if  you  please — and  amidst  the  anxieties  of  so  laborious  an 
undertaking,  is  the  expectation,  that,  through  our  labors, 
the  reputation  of  distinguished  men  of  the  country,  constitut- 
ing its  moral  treasure,  may  be  preserved  for  the  admiration 
and  direction  of  mankind,  not  for  a  day,  but  for  all  time. 
And  it  has  occurred  to  me,  that  such  true  merit  as  yours 
might  find  a  motive  for  your  enrolment  among  the  known  sages 
and  profound  intellects  of  the  land,  not  less  in  the  natural  de- 
sire of  a  just  perpetuation  of  renown,  than  in  the  patriotism 
which  desires  the  improvement  of  the  race  of  lawyers  who 
are  to  come  after  you,  and  the  adding  to  the  accredited  stand- 
ards of  public  taste  and  professional  attainment  and  genius. 

We  know  from  experience,  that  the  characteristic  diffi- 
dence of  the  profession,  in  many  instances,  shrinks  from  the 
seeming,  though  falsely  seeming,  indelicacy  of  an  egotistical 
parade  of  one's  own  talents  and  accomplishments,  and  from 
walking  into  a  niche  of  the  Pantheon  of  American  genius  we 
have  opened,  and  over  the  entrance  to  which,  *'  FOR  THE 
GEEAT  "  is  inscribed.  But  the  facility  with  which  this  diffi- 
culty has  been  surmounted  by  some,  of  whose  success  we  had 
reason  to  entertain  apprehensions,  adds  but  further  evidence 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  I     A    LEGAi.    BIOGRAPHY.  117 

of  the  capacity  which  the  noble  profession  of  the  law  gives 
for  the  most  arduous  exploits.  Besides,  sir,  although  the 
facts  are  expected  to  be  furnished  by  the  subject,  yet  the 
first  person  is  but  seldom  used  in  the  memoir — some  com- 
plaisant friend,  or  some,  friend's  name  being  employed  as  edi- 
tor of  the  work;  the  subject  sometimes,  indeed,  having  no- 
thing to  do  except  to  revise  it  and  transmit  it  to  this  office. 
You  may  remember,  my  dear  Colonel,  the  exclamatory 
line  of  the  poet — 

: "  How  hard  it  is  to  climb 


The  steep  where  fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar." 

And  so  it  used  to  be  :  but  in  this  wonderfully  progress- 
ive age  it  is  no  longer  so.  It  is  the  pride  of  your  humble 
correspondent  to  have  constructed  a  plan,  by  means  of  his 
journal,  whereby  a  gentleman  of  genius  may,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  single  friend,  or  even  without  it,  wind  himself,  up 
from  the  vale  below,  as  by  a  windlass,  up  to  the  very  cupola 
of  the  temple. 

May  we  rely  upon  your  sending  us  the  necessary  papers, 
viz.,  a  sketch  of  your  life,  genius,  exploits,  successes,  accom- 
plishments, virtues,  family  antecedents,  personal  pulchri- 
tudes, professional^,  habitudes,  and  whatever  else  you  may 
deem  interesting.  You  can  see  from  former  numbers  of  our 
work,  that  nothing  will  be  irrelevant  or  out  of  place.  The 
sketch  may  be  from  ten  to  sixty  pages  in  length. 

Please  send  also  a  good  daguerreotype  likeness  of  yourself, 
from  which  an  engraving  maybe  executed,  to  accompany  the 


118  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

sketch.  The  daguerreotype  had  better  he  taken  with  refer- 
ence  to  the  engraving  to  accoinpany  the  memoir — the  hair 
combed  or  brushed  from  the  brow,  so  as  to  show  a  high  fore- 
head— the  expression  meditative — a  book  in  the  hand,  &c. 

Hoping  soon  to  hear  favorably  from  you,  I  am,  with 
great  respect  and  esteem, 

The  Editor. 

P.  S.  It  is  possible  that  sketches  of  one  or  two  distin- 
guished gentlemen,  not  lawyers,  may  be  given.  If  there  is 
any  exception  of  class  made,  we  hope  to  be  able  to  give  you 
a  sketch  and  engraving  of  the  enterprising  Mr.  Barnum. 


Eackinsack,  Dec.  1,  1852. 
To  Mr.  Editor. 

Dear  Sir — I  got  your  letter  dated  18  Nov.,  asking  me 
to  send  you  my  life  and  karackter  for  your  Journal.  Im 
obleeged  to  you  for  your  perlite  say  so,  and  so  forth.  I  got 
a  friend  to  rite  it — my  own  ritin  being  mostly  perfeshunal. 
He  done  it — but  he  rites  such  a  cussed  bad  hand  I  cant  rede 
it :  I  reckon  its  all  korrect  tho'. 

As  to  my  doggerrytype  I  cant  send  it  there  aint  any  dog- 
gery type  man  about  here  now.  There  ^lever  was  but  won, 
and  he  tried  his  mershine  on  Jemmy  0.  a  lawyer  here,  and 
Jem  was  so  mortal  ugly  it  bust  his  mershine  all  to  pieces 
trying  to  git  him  down,  and  liked  to  killed  the  man  that  iu- 
gineered  the  wurks. 

You  can  take  father's  picter  on  Jonce  Hooper's  book — 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  119 

take  off  the  bend  in  the  back,  and  about  twenty  years  of  age 
off  en  it  and  make  it  a  leetle  likelier  and  it  '11  suit  me  but  dress 
it  up  gentele  in  store  close. 

Eespectfully  till  death, 

Simon  Suggs,  Jr. 
■  P.  S. — I  rite  from  here  where  I  am  winding  up  my  fust 
wife's  estate  which  theyve  filed  a  bill  in  chancery.       S.  S.  Jr. 


City  of  Got-him,  Dec.   11,   1852. 
CoL.  Simon  Suggs,  Jr. 

My  Dear  Sir — The  very  interesting  sketch  of  your  life 
requested  by  us,  reached  here  accompanied  by  your  favor  of 
the  1st  inst.,  for  which  please  receive  our  thanks. 

\Ye  were  very  much  pleased  with  the  sketch,  and  think  it 
throws  light  on  a  new  phase  of  character,  and  supplies  a  de- 
sideratum in  the  branch  of  literature  we  are  engaged  in — the 
description  of  a  lawyer  distinguished  in  the  out-door  labors  of 
the  profession,  and  directing  great  energies  to  the  prepara- 
tion of  proof 

We  fear,  however,  the  suggestion  you  made  of  the  use  of 
the  engraving  of  your  distinguished  father  will  not  avail  ;  as 
the  author,  Mr.  Hooper,  has  copyrighted  his  work,  and  we 
should  be  exposing  ourselves  to  a  prosecution  by  trespassing 
on  his  patent.  Besides,  the  execution  of  such  a  work  by  no 
better  standard,  would  not  be  creditable  either  to  our  artist, 
yourself,  or  our  Journal.  We  hope  you  will  conclude  to 
send  on  your  daguerreotype  to  be  appended  to  the  lively  and 
instructive  sketch  you  furnish ;  and  we  entertain  no  doubt 


120     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

that  the  contemplated  publication  will  redound  greatly  to 
your  honor,  and  establish  yours  among  the  classical  names 
of  the  American  bar. 

With  profound  respect,  &c., 

The  Editor. 

P.  S. — Our  delicacy  caused  us  to  omit,  in  our  former 
letter,  to  mention  what  we  suppose  was  generally  understood, 
viz.,  the  fact  that  the  cost  to  us  of  preparing  engravings 
&c.,  &c.,  for  the  sketches  or  memoirs,  is  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  which  sum  it  is  expected,  of  course,  the  gentle- 
man who  is  perpetuated  in  our  work,  will  forward  to  us 
before  the  insertion  of  his  biography.  We  merely  allude  to 
this  trifling  circumstance,  lest,  in  the  pressure  of  important 
business  and  engagements  with  which  your  mind  is  charged, 
it  might  be  forgotten. 

Again,  very  truly,  &c., 

Ed.  Jurist-maker.  ' 


Rackinsack,  Dec.  25,  1852. 
Bear  Mr,  Editor — In  your  p.  s.  which  seems  to  be  the 
creem  of  your  correspondents  you  say  I  can't  get  in  your 
book  without  paying  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars — pretty 
tall  entrants  fee  !  I  suppose  though  children  and  niggers 
half  price — I  believe  I  will  pass.  I'll  enter  a  nolly  prossy 
q.  0-n-e-h-u-n-d-r-e-d  dollars  and  fifty  better !  Je-whelli- 
kens! 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  121 

I  just  begin  to  see  the  pint  of  many  things  which  was  very 
vague  and  ondefinit  before.  Put  Barnum  in  first — one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  ! 

That's  the  consideratum  you  talk  of  is  it. 

^^^  I  REMAIN  Respy 

Simon  Suggs,  Jr. 
Therefore  wont  go  in. 

P.  S. — Suppose  you  rite  to  the  old  man  !  !  May  be  he'd 
go  in  with  Barnum  !  !  !  May  be  he'd  like  to  take  two 
chances  ?  He's  young — never  seen  much  ! !  Lives  in  a 
new  country  ! ! !  Aint  Smart  ! !  I  say  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars ! ! ! 


SIMON  SUGGS,  JR.,  ESQ., 


RACKINSACK— ARKANSAW. 

This  distinguished  lawyer,  unlike  the  majority  of  those 
favored  subjects  of  the  biographical  muse,  whom  a  patriotic 
ambition  to  add  to  the  moral  treasures  of  the  country,  has 
prevailed  on,  over  the  instincts  of  a  native  and  professional 
modesty,  to  supply  subjects  for  the  pens  and  pencils  of  their 
friends,  was  not  quite,  either  in  a  literal  or  metaphorical 
sense,  a  self-made  man.  He  had  ancestors.  They  were, 
moreover,  men  of  distinction  ;  and,  on  the  father's  side,  in 
the  first  and  second  degrees  of  ascent  known  to  fame.     The 


122  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TI3IES    OF    ALABAMA. 

father  of  this  distinguished  barrister  was,  and,  happily,  is 
Capt.  Simon  Suggs,  of  the  Tallapoosa  volunteers,  and  cele- 
brated not  less  for  his  financial  skill  and  abilities,  than  for 
his  martial  exploits.  His  grandfather,  the  Eev.  Jedediah 
Suggs,  was  a  noted  divine  of  the  Anti-Missionary  or  Hard- 
shell Baptist  persuasion  in  Georgia.  For  further  informa- 
tion resi^ecting  these  celebrities,  the  ignorant  reader — the 
well-informed  already  know  them — is  referred  to  the  work 
of  Johnson  Hooper,  Esq.,  one  of  the  most  authentic  of 
modern  biographers. 

The  question  of  the  propagability  of  mo  al  and  intellect-^ 
ual  qualities  is  a  somewhat  mooted  point,  into  the  metaphysics 
of  which  we  do  not  propose  to  enter  ;  but  that  th^ere  are 
instances  of  moral  and  intellectual  as  well  as  physical  like- 
nesses in  families,  is  an  undisputed  fact^  of  which  the  subject 
of  this  memoir  is  a  new  and  striking  illustration. 

In  the  month  of  July,  Anno  Domini,  1810,  on  the  ever 
memorable  fourth  day  of  the  month,  in  the  county  of  Carroll, 
and  State  of  Georgia,  Simon  Suggs,  Jr.,  first  saw  the  light, 
mingling  the  first  noise  he  made  in  the  world  with  the  patri- 
otic explosions  and  rejoicings  going  on  in  honor  of  the  day. 
"VVe  have  endeavored  in  vain  to  ascertain,  whether  the  auspi- 
cious period  of  the  birth  of  young  Simon  was  a  matter  of 
accident,  or  of  human  calculation,  and  sharp  foresight,  for 
which  his  immediate  ancestor  on  the  paternal  side  was  so 
eminently  distinguished  ;  but,  beyond  a  knowing  wink,  and 
a  characteristic  laudation  of  his  ability  to  accomplish  won- 
derful things,  and  to  keep  the  run  of  the  cards,  on  the  part 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  ;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRArHY.  123 

of  the  veteran  captain,  we  have  obtained  no  reliable  informa- 
tion on  this  interesting  subject.  It  is  something,  however, 
to  be  remarked  upon,  that  the  natal  day  of  his  country  and 
of  Simon  were  the  same. 

Very  early  in  life,  our  hero — for  Peace  hath  her  victories, 
and,  of  course,  her  heroes,  as  well  as  war — gave  a  promise 
of  the  hereditary  genius  of  the  Suggs's  ;  but  as  the  incidents 
in  proof  of  this  rest  on  the  authority,  merely,  of  family 
tradition,  we  shall  not  violate  the  sanctity  of  the  domestic 
fireside,  by  relating  them.  In  the  ninth  year  of  his  age  he 
was  sent  to  the  public  school  in  the  neighborhood.  Here  he 
displayed  that  rare  vivacity  and  enterprise,  and  that  shrewd- 
ness ^nd  invention,  which  subsequently  distinguished  his 
riper  age.  Like  his  father,  his  study  was  less  of  books  than 
of  men.  Indeed,  it  required  a  considerable  expenditure  of 
birch,  and  much  wear  and  tear  of  patience,  to  overcome  his 
constitutional  aversion  to  letters  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to 
master  the  alphabet.  Not  that  he  was  too  lazy  to  learn ; 
on  the  contrar}^,  it  was  his  extreme  industry  in  other  and 
more  congenial  pursuits  that  stood  in  the  way  of  the  seden- 
tary business  of  instruction.  It  was  not  difficult  to  see  that 
the  mantle  of  the  Captain  had  fallen  upon  his  favorite  son  ; 
at  any  rate,  the  breeches  in  which  young  Simon's  lower 
proportions  were  encased,  bore  a  wonderful  resemblance  to  the 
old  cloak  that  the  Captain  had  sported  on  so  many  occa- 
sions. 

Simon's  course  at  school  was  marked  by  many  of  the  traits 
which  distinguished  him  in  after  life ;  so  true  is  the  aphorism 


124  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

which  the  great  Englishman  enounced,  that  the  boy  is  father 
to  the  man.  His  genius  was  eminently  commercial,  and  he 
was  by  no  means  deficient  in  practical  arithmetic.  This  pe- 
culiar turn  of  mind  displayed  itself  in  his  barterings  for  the 
small  wares  of  schoolboy  merchandise — tops,  apples,  and 
marbles,  sometimes  rising  to  the  dignity  of  a  pen-knife.  In 
these  exercises  of  infantile  enterprise,  it  was  observable  that 
Simon  always  got  the  advantage  in  the  trade  ;  and  in  that 
sense  of  charity  which  conceals  defects,  he  may  be  said  to 
have  always  displayed  that  virtue  to  a  considerable  degree. 
The  same  love  of  enterprise  early  led  him  into  games  of 
hazard,  such  as  push-pin,  marbles,  chuck-a-luck,  heads  and 
tails,  and  other  like  boyish  pastimes,  in  which  his  ing^uity 
was  rewarded  by  marked  success.  The  vivacious  and  eager 
spirit  of  this  gifted  urchin  sometimes  evolved  and  put  in 
practice,  even  in  the  presence  of  the  master,  expedients  of 
such  sort  as  served  to  enliven  the  proverbial  monotony  of 
scholastic  confinement  and  study :  such,  for  example,  were 
the  traps  set  for  the  unwary  and  heedless  scholar,  made  by 
thrusting  a  string  through  the  eye  of  a  needle  and  passing  it 
through  holes  in  the  school  bench — one  end  of  the  string 
being  attached  to  the  machinist's  leg,  and  so  fixed,  that  by 
pulling  the  string,  the  needle  would  protrude  through  the 
further  hole  and  into  the  person  of  the  urchin  sitting  over  it, 
to  the  great  divertisement  of  the  spectators  of  this  innocent 
pastime.  The  holes  being  filled  with  soft  putty,  the  needle 
was  easily  replaced,  and  the  point  concealed,  so  that  when 
the  outcrv  of  the  victim  was  heard,   Simon  was  diligently 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  ;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  125 

perusing  his  book,  and  the  only  consequence  was  a  dismissal 
of  the  complaint,  and  the  amercement  of  the  complainant  by 
the  master,  pro  falso  clamore.  Beginning  to  be  a  little 
more  boldly  enterprising,  the  usual  fortune  of  those  whD 
"  conquer  or  excel  mankind"  befell  our  hero,  and  he  was 
made  the  scape-goat  of  the  school  ;  all  vagrant  offences  that 
could  not  be  proved  against  any  one  else  being  visited  upon 
him  ;  a  summary  procedure,  which,  as  Simon  remarked, 
brought  down  genius  to  the  level  of  blundering  mediocrity, 
and  made  of  no  avail  the  most  ingenious  arts  of  deception 
and  concealment.  The  master  of  the  old  field  school  was 
one  of  the  regular  faculty,  who  had  great  faith  in  the  old 
medicine  for  the  eradication  of  moral  diseases — the  cutaneous 
tonic,  as  he  called  it — and  repelled,  with  great  scorn,  the 
modern  quackeries  of  kind  encouragement  and  moral  suasion. 
Accordingly,  the  flagellations  and  cuffings  which  Simon 
received,  were  such  and  so  many  as  to  give  him  a  high 
opinion  of  the  powers  of  endurance,  the  recuperative  ener- 
gies, and  the  immense  vitality  of  the  human  system.  Simon 
tried,  on  one  occasion,  the  experiment  of  fits  ;  but  Dominie 
Dobbs  was  inexorable  ;  and  as  the  fainting  posture  only 
exposed  to  the  Dominie  new  and  fresher  points  of  attack, 
Simon  was  fain  to  unroll  his  eyes,  draw  up  again  his  lower 
jaw,  and  come  to.  Simon,  remarking  in  his  moralizing 
way  upon  the  virtue  of  perseverance,  has  been  heard  to 
declare  that  he  "  lost  that  game"  by  being  unable  to  keep 
from  scratching  during  a  space  of  three  minutes  and  a  half; 
which  he  would  have  accomplished,  but  for  the  Dominie's 


126    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

touching  liim  on  the  raw,  caused  by  riding  a  race  bare-backed 
the  Sunday  before.  '^  Upon  what  slender  threads  hang  the 
greatest  events  !"  Doubtless  these  experiences  of  young 
Suggs  were  not  without  effect  upon  so  observing  and  saga- 
cious an  intellect.  To  them  we  may  trace  that  strong  re- 
publican bias  and  those  fervid  expressions  in  favor  of  Dem- 
ocratic principles,  which,  all  through  life,  and  in  the  ranks 
of  whatever  party  he  might  be  found,  he  ever  exhibited  and 
made  ;  and  probably  to  the  unfeeling,  and  sometimes  unjust 
inflictions  of  Dominie  Dobbs,  was  he  indebted  for  his  devo- 
tion to  that  principle  of  criminal  justice  he  so  pertinaciously 
upheld,  which  requires  full  proof  of  guilt  before  it  awards 
punishment. 

We  must  pass  over  a  few  years  in  the  life  of  Simon,  who 
continued  at  school,  growing  in  size  and  wisdom  ;  and  not 
more  instructed  by  what  he  learned  there,  than  by  the  valu- 
able information  which  his  reverend  father  gave  him  in  the 
shape  of  his  sage  counsels  and  sharp  experiences  of  the 
world  and  its  ways  and  wiles.  An  event  occurred  in  Simon's 
fifteenth  year,  which  dissolved  the  tie  that  bound  him  to  his 
rustic  Alma  Mater^  the  only  institution  of  letters  which 
can  boast  of  his  connection  with  it.  Dominie  Dobbs,  one 
Friday  evening,  shortly  after  the  close  of  the  labors  of  the 
scholastic  week,  was  quietly  taking  from  a  handkerchief  in 
which  he  had  placed  it,  a  flask  of  powder ;  as  he  pressed 
the  knot  of  the  handkerchief,  it  pressed  upon  the  slide  of 
the  flask,  which  as  it  revolved,  bore  upon  a  lucifer  match 
that  ignited  the  powder;  the  explosion   tore  the  handker- 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  127 

chief  to  pieces,  and  also  one  ear  and  three  fingers  of  the 
Dominie's  riaht  hand — those  fino;ers  that  had  wielded  the 
birch  upon  young  Simon  with  such  effect.  Suspicion  fell  on 
Simon,  notwithstanding  he  was  the  first  boy  to  leave  the 
school  that  evening.  This  suspicion  derived  some  corrobo- 
ration from  other  facts  ;  but  the  evidence  was  wholly  cir- 
cumstantial. No  positive  proof  whatever  connected  Simon 
with  this  remarkable  accident ;  but  the  characteristic  pru- 
dence of  the  elder  Suggs  suggested  the  expediency  of  Si- 
mon's leaving  for  a  time  a  part  of  the  country  where  char- 
acter was  held  in  so  little  esteem.  Accordingly  the  influ- 
ence of  his  father  procured  for  Simon  a  situation  in  the 
neighboring  county  of  Randolph,  in  the  State  of  Alabama, 
near  the  gold  mines,  as  clerk  or  assistant  in  a  store  for  re- 
tailing spirituous  liquors,  which  the  owner,  one  Dixon 
Tripes,  had  set  up  for  refreshment  of  the  public,  without 
troubling  the  County  Court  for  a  license.  Here  Simon  was 
early  initiated  into  a  knowledge  of  men,  in  such  situations 
as  to  present  their  characters  nearly  naked  to  the  eye.  The 
neighbors  were  in  the  habit  of  assembling  at  the  grocery, 
almost  every  day,  in  considerable  numbers,  urged  thereto 
by  the  attractions  of  the  society,  and  the  beverage  there 
abounding ;  and  games  of  various  sorts  added  to  the  charms 
of  conversation-  and  social  intercourse.  It  was  the  general 
rendezvous  of  the  fast  young  gentlemen  for  ten  miles  around  ; 
and  horse-racing,  shooting-matches,  quoit-pitching,  cock- 
fighting,  and  card-playing  filled  up  the  vacant  hours  between 
drinks. 


128  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

In  such  choice  society  it  may  well  be  supposed  that  so 
sprightly  a  temper  and  so  inquisitive  a  mind  as  Simon's 
found  congenial  and  delightful  employment ;  and  it  was  not 
long  before  his  acquirements  ranked  him  among  the  fore- 
most in  that  select  and  spirited  community.  Although  good 
at  all  the  games  mentioned,  card-playing  constituted  his  fa- 
vorite amusement,  not  less  for  the  excitement  it  afforded 
him,  than  for  the  rare  opportunity  it  gave  him  of  studying 
the  human  character. 

The  skill  he  attained  in  measuring  distances,  was  equal 
to  that  displayed  in  his  youth,  by^  his  venerated  father,  inso- 
much that  in  any  disputed  question  in  pitching  or  shooting, 
to  allow  him  to  measure  was  to  give  him  the  match ;  while 
his  proficiency  ''  in  arranging  the  papers  " — vulgarly  called 
stocking  a  pack — was  nearly  equal  to  sleight  of  hand. 
Having  been  appointed  judge  of  a  quarter  race  on  one  occa- 
sion, he  decided  in  favor  of  one  of  the  parties  by  three 
inches  and  a  half:  and  such  was  the  sense  of  the  winner  of 
Simon's  judicial  expertness  and  impartiality,  that  immediate- 
ly after  the  decision  was  made,  he  took  Simon  behind  the 
grocery  and  divided  the  purse  with  him.  By  means  of  the 
accumulation  of  his  wonderful  industry,  Simon  went  forth 
with  a  somewhat  heterogeneous  assortment  of  plunder,  to 
set  up  a  traffic  on  his  own  account :  naturally  desiring  a 
wider  theatre,  which  he  found  in  the  city  of  Columbus  in 
his  native  State.  He  returned  to  the  paternal  roof  with  an 
increased  store  of  goods  and  experience  from  his  sojourn  in 
Alabama.      Among  other  property,  he  brought  with  him  a 


v->%?^ 


■^i^l^^M 


IIHMXG  THE  .lAf  K      p.  ]-2^i 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  )     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  129 

Maall  race  mare,  wliich  excited  the  acquisitiveness  of  his 
father,  who,  desiring  an  easier  mode  of  acquisition  than  by 
purchase,  proposed  to  stake  a  horse  he  had  (the  same  he 
had  swapped  for,  on  the  road  to  Montgomery,  with  the  land 
speculator,)  against  Simon's  mare,  upon  the  issue  of  a  game 
of  seven  up.  Since  the  game  of  chess  between  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son and  the  French  Minister,  which  lasted  three  years,  per- 
haps there  never  has  been  a  more  closely  contested  match 
than  that  between  these  keen,  sagacious  and  practised  sports- 
men. It  was  played  with  all  advantages ;  all  the  lights  of 
science  were  shed  upon  that  game.  The  old  gentleman  had 
the  advantage  of  experience — the  young  of  genius  :  it  was 
the  old  fogy  against  young  America.  For  a  long  time  the 
result  was  dubious  ;  as  if  Dame  Fortune  was  unable  or  un- 
willing to  decide  between  her  favorites.  The  game  stood 
six  and  six,  and  young  Simon  had  the  deal.  Just  as  the 
.  deal  commenced,  after  one  of  the  most  brilliant  shuffles  the 
senior  had  ever  made,  Simon  carelessly  laid  down  his  tor- 
toise-shell snuff-box  on  the  table  ;  and  the  father,  affecting 
nonchalance,  and  inclining  his  head  towards  the  box,  in 
order  to  peep  under  as  the  cards  were  being  dealt,  took  a 
pinch  of  snuff';  the  titillating  restorative  was  strongly  adul- 
terated with  cayenne  pepper ;  the  old  fogy  was  compelled  to 
sneeze  ;  and  just  as  he  recovered  from  the  concussion,  the 
first  object  that  met  his  eye  was  a  Jack  turning  in  Simon's 
hand.  A  struggle  seemed  to  be  going  on  in  the  old  man's 
breast  between  a  feeling  of  pride  in  his  son  and  a  sense  of 
his  individual  loss.      It  soon  ceased,  however.     The  father 


130  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

congratulated  his  son  upon  his  success,  and  swore  that  he 
was  wasting  his  genius  in  a  retail  business  of  "  shykeenry  " 
when  nature  had  designed  him  for  the  bar. 

To  follow  Simon  through  the  eventful  and  checkered 
scenes  of  his  nascent  manhood,  would  be  to  enlarge  this 
sketch  to  a  volume.  We  must  be  content  to  state  briefly, 
that  such  was  the  proficiency  he  made  in  the  polite  accom- 
plishments of  the  day,  and  such  the  reputation  he  acquired 
in  all  those  arts  which  win  success  in  legal  practice,  when 
thereto  energetically  applied,  that  many  sagacious  men  pre- 
dicted that  the  Icno  tvoidd  yet  elevate  Simon  to  a  prominent 
"place  in  the  public  view.  In  his  twenty -first  year,  Simon, 
starting  out  with  a  single  mare  to  trade  in  horses  in  the  ad- 
joining State  of  Alabama,  returned,  such  was  his  success, 
with  a  drove  of  six  horses  and  a  mule,  and  among  them 
the  very  mare  he  started  with.  These,  with  the  exception 
of  the  mare,  he  converted  into  money;  he  had  found 
her  invincible  in  all  trials  of  speed,  and  determined  to 
keep  her.  Trying  his  fortune  once  more  in  Alabama,  where 
he  had  been  so  eminently  successful,  Simon  went  to  the 
city  of  Wetumpka,  where  he  found  the  races  about  coming 
ofi".  As  his  mare  had  too  much  reputation  to  get  bets  upon 
her,  an  ingenious  idea  struck  Simon — it  was  to  take  bets, 
through  an  agent,  against  her,  in  favor  of  a  long-legged 
horse,  entered  for  the  races.  It  was  very  plain  to  see  that 
Simon's  mare  was  bound  to  win  if  he  let  her.  He  backed 
his  own  mare  openly,  and  got  some  trifling  bets  on  her  ;  and 
bis  agent  was  fortunate  enough  to  pick  up   a  green-looking 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  131 

Georgia  sucker,  who  bet  with  him  the  full  amount  left  of 
Simon's  '^  pile."  The  stakes  were  deposited  in  due  form  to 
the  amount  of  some  two  thousand  dollars.  Simon  was  to 
ride  his  own  mare — wild  Kate,  as  he  called  her — and  he  had 
determined  to  hold  her  back,  so  that  the  other  horse  should 
win.  But  the  Georgian,  having  by  accident  overheard  the 
conversation  between  Simon  and  his  agent,  before  the  race, 
cut  the  reins  of  Simon's  bridle  nearly  through,  but  in  so 
ingenious  a  manner,  that  the  incision  did  not  appear.  The 
race  came  off  as  it  had  been  arranged;  and  as  Simon  was 
carefully  holding  back  his  emulous  filly,  at  the  same  time 
giving  her  whip  and  spur,  as  though  he  would  have  her  do 
her  best,  the  bridle  broke  under  the  strain  ;  and  the  mare, 
released  from  check,  flew  to  and  past  the  goal  like  the  wind, 
some  three  hundred  yards  ahead  of  the  horse,  upon  the  suc- 
cess of  which  Simon  had  ^'  piled  "  up  so  largely. 

A  shout  of  laughter  like  that  which  pursued  Mazeppa, 
arose  from  the  crowd  (to  whom  the  Georgian  had  communi- 
cated the  facts),  as  Simon  swept  by,  the  involuntary  winner 
of  the  race  ;  and  in  that  laugh,  Simon  heard  the  announce- 
ment of  the  discovery  of  his  ingenious  contrivance.  He  did 
not  return. 

Old  Simon,  when  he  heard  of  this  counter-mine,  fell  into 
paroxysms  of  grief,  which  could  not  find  consolation  in  less 
than  a  quart  of  red-eye.  Heart-stricken,  the  old  patriarch 
exclaimed — "  Oh  !  Simon  !  my  son  Simon  !  to  be  overcome 
in  that  way  ! — a  Suggs  to  be  humbugged  !  His  own  Jack  to  be 
taken  outen  his  hand  and  turned  on  him !  Oh !  that  I  should 
ha'  lived  to  see  this  day  !  " 


132  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    THVIES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Proceeding  to  Montgomery,  Simon  found  an  opening  on 
the  thither  side  of  a  faro  table  ;  and  having  disposed  of  the 
race  mare  for  three  hundred  dollars,  banked  on  this  capital, 
but  with  small  success.  Mr.  Suggs'  opinion  of  the  people 
of  Montgomery  was  not  high ;  they  were  fashioned  on  a 
very  diminutive  scale,  he  used  to  say,  and  degraded  the 
national  amusement,  by  wagers,  which  an  enterprising  boy 
would  scorn  to  hazard  at  push-pin.  One  Sam  Boggs,  a 
young  lawyer  ''  of  that  ilk,"  having  been  cleaned  out  of  his 
entire  stake  of  ten  dollars,  wished  to  continue  the  game  on 
credit,  and  Simon  gratified  him,  taking  his  law  license  in 
pawn  for  two  dollars  and  a  half ;  which  pawn  the  aforesaid 
Samuel  failed  to  redeem.  Our  prudent  and  careful  adven- 
turer filed  away  the  sheepskin,  thinking  that  sometime  or 
other,  he  might  be  able  to  put  it  to  good  use. 

The  losses  Simon  had  met  with,  and  the  unpromising 
prospects  of  gentlemen  who  lived  on  their  wits,  now  that  the 
hard  times  had  set  in,  produced  an  awakening  influence  upon 
his  conscience.  He  determined  to  abandon  the  nomadic  life 
he  had  led,  and  to  settle  himself  down  to  some  regular  busi- 
ness. He  had  long  felt  a  call  to  the  law,  and  he  now 
resolved  to  ''  locate,"  and  apply  himself  to  the  duties  of  that 
learned  profession.  Simon  was  not  long  in  deciding  upon  a 
location.  The  spirited  manner  in  which  the  State  of 
Arkansas  had  repudiated  a  public  debt  of  some  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  gave  him  a  favorable  opinion  of  that  people 
as  a  community  of  litigants,  while  the  accounts  which  came 
teeming   from  that   bright    land,  of  murders   and  felonies 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  ;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  133 

innumerable,  suggested  the  value  of  the  criminal  practice. 
He  wended  his  way  into  that  State,  nor  did  he  tarry  until 
he  reached  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Smith,  a  promising  bor- 
der town  in  the  very  Ultima  Tliule  of  civilization^  such  as 
it  was,  just  on  the  confines  of  the  Choctaw  nation.  It  was 
in  this  region,  in  the  village  of  Rackensack,  that  he  put  up 
his  sign,  and  ofi*ered  himself  for  practice.  I  shall  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  population.  It  is  indescribable.  I 
shall  only  say  that  the  Indians  and  half-breeds  across  the 
border  complained  of  it  mightily. 

The  motive  for  Simon's  seeking  so  remote  a  location  was 
that  he  might  get  in  advance  of  his  reputation — being  laud- 
ably ambitious  to  acquire  forensic  distinction,  he  wished  his 
fame  as  a  lawyer  to  be  independent  of  all  extraneous  and 
adventitious  assistance.  His  first  act  in  the  practice  was 
under  the  statute  of  Jeo  Falls.  It  consisted  of  an  amend- 
ment of  the  license  he  had  got  from  Boggs,  as  before  related ; 
which  amendment,  was  ingeniously  efi'ected  by  a  careful  era- 
sure of  the  name  of  that  gentleman,  and  the  insertion  of  his 
own  in  the  place  of  it.  Having  accomplished  this  feat,  he 
presented  it  to  the  court,  then  in  session,  and  was  duly 
admitted  an  attorney  and  counsellor  at  law  and  solicitor  in 
chancery. 

There  is  a  tone  and  spirit  of  morality  attaching  to  the 
profession  of  the  law  so  elevating  and  pervasive  in  its  in- 
fluence, as  to  work  an  almost  instantaneous  reformation  in 
the  character  and  habits  of  its  disciples.  If  this  be  not  so, 
it  was  certainly  a  m:)st  singular  coincidence  that,  just  at  the 


134  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

time  of  Lis  adoption  of  this  vocation,  Simon  abandoned  the 
favorite  pastimes  of  his  youth,  and  the  irregularities  of  his 
earlier  years.  Indeed,  he  has  been  heard  to  declare  that 
any  lawyer,  fulfilling  conscientiously  the  duties  of  his  pro- 
fession, will  find  enough  to  employ  all  his  resources  of  art, 
stratagem  and  dexterity,  without  resorting  to  other  and  more 
equivocal  methods  for  their  exercise. 

It  was  not  long  before  Simon's  genius  began  to  find  oc- 
casions and  opportunities  of  exhibition.  When  he  first  came 
to  the  bar,  there  were  but  seven  suits  on  the  docket,  two  of 
those  being  appeals  from  a  justice's  court.  In  the  course 
of  six  months,  so  indefatigable  was  he  in  instructing  clients, 
as  to  their  rights,  the  number  of  suits  grew  to  forty.  Simon 
— or  as  he  is  now  called — Colonel  Suggs,  determined  on 
winning  reputation  in  a  most  effective  branch  of  practice — 
one  that  he  shrewdly  perceived  was  too  much  neglected  by 
the  profession — the  branch  of  preparing  cases  out  of  court 
for  trial.  While  other  lawyers  were  busy  in  getting  up  the 
law  of  their  cases,  the  Colonel  was  no  less  busy  in  getting  up 
the  facts  of  his. 

One  of  the  most  successful  of  Col.  Suggs'  efforts,  was  in 
behalf  of  his  landlady,  in  whom  he  felt  a  warm  and  decided 
interest.  She  had  been  living  for  many  years  in  ignorant 
contentednesSjWith  an  indolent,  easy  natured  man,  her  hus- 
band, who  was  not  managing  her  separate  estate,  consisting 
of  a  plantation  and  about  twenty  negroes,  and  some  town 
property,  with  much  thrift.  The  lady  was  buxom  and  gay 
and  the  union  of  the   couple  was  unblessed  with  children 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  135 

By  the  most  insinuating  manners,  Col.  Suggs  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  opening  the  lady's  eyes  to  a  true  sense  of  her  hap- 
less  condition,  and  the  danger  in  which  her  property  was 
placed,  from  the  improvident  habits  of  her  spouse  ;  and, 
having  ingeniously  deceived  the  unsuspecting  husband  into 
some  suspicious  appearances,  which  were  duly  observed  by  a 
witness  or  two  provided  for  the  purpose,  he  soon  prevailed 
upon  his  fair  hostess  to  file  a  bill  of  divorce  ;  which  she 
readily  procured  under  the  Colonel's  auspices.  Under  the 
pretence  of  protecting  her  property  from  the  claims  of  her 
husband's  creditors,  the  Colonel  was  kind  enough  to  take  a 
conveyance  of  it  to  himself  ;  and,  shortly  afterwards,  the  fair 
libellant  ;  by  which  means  he  secured  himself  from  those 
distracting  cares  which  beset  the  young  legal  practitioner, 
who  stands  in  immediate  need  of  the  wherewithal. 

Col.  Suggs'  prospects  now  greatly  improved,  and  he  saw  be- 
fore him  an  extended  field  of  usefulness.  The  whole  commu- 
nity felt  the  efi'ects  of  his  activity.  Long  dormant  claims 
came  to  light ;  and  rights,  of  the  very  existence  of  which, 
suitors  were  not  before  aware,  were  brought  into  practical 
assertion.  From  restlessness  and  inactivity,  the  population 
became  excited,  inquisitive  and  intelligent,  as  to  the  laws  of 
their  country  ;  and  the  ruinous  efi'ects  of  servile  acquiescence 
in  wrong  and  oppression,  were  averted. 

The  fault  of  lawyers  in  preparing  their  cases  was  too 
generally  a  dilatoriness  of  movement,  which  sometimes  de- 
ferred until  it  was  too  late,  the  creating  of  the  proper  im- 
pression upon  the  minds  of  the  jury.     This  was  not  the  fault 


136     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

of  Col.  Suggs  ;  lie  always  took  time  by  the  forelock.  In- 
stead of  waiting  to  create  i^rejudices  in  the  minds  of  the 
jury,  until  they  were  in  the  box,  or  deferring  until  then  the 
arts  of  persuasion,  he  waited  upon  them  before  they  were 
empannelled ;  and  he  always  succeeded  better  at  that  time, 
as  they  had  not  then  received  an  improper  bias  from  the 
testimony.  In  a  case  of  any  importance,  he  always  managed 
to  have  his  friends  in  the  court  room,  so  that  when  any  of 
the  jurors  were  challenged,  he  might  have  their  places  filled 
by  good  men  and  true  ;  and,  although  this  increased  his  ex- 
penses considerably,  by  a  large  annual  bill  at  the  grocery, 
he  never  regretted  any  expense,  either  of  time,  labor  or  mo 
ney,  necessary  to  success  in  his  business.  Such  was  his  zeal 
for  his  clients ! 

He  was  in  the  habit,  too,  of  free  correspondence  with  the 
opposite  party,  which  enabled  him  at  once  to  conduct  his 
case  with  better  advantage,  and  to  supply  any  omissions  or 
chasms  in  the  proof :  and  so  far  did  he  carry  the  habit  of 
testifying  in  his  own  cases,  that  his  clients  were  always  as- 
sured that  in  employing  him,  they  were  procuring  counsel 
and  witness  at  the  same  time,  and  by  the  same  retainer.  By 
a  very  easy  process,  he  secured  a  large  debt  barred  by  the 
statute  of  limitations,  and  completely  circumvented  a  fraud- 
ulent defendant  who  was  about  to  avail  himself  of  that  men- 
dacious defence.  He  ante-dated  the  writ,  and  thus  brouorht 
the  case  clear  of  the  statute. 

One  of  the  most  harassing  annoyances  that  were  inflicted 
upon  the  emigrant  community  around  him,  was  the  revival 


^ 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR.,    ESQ.  ;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  137 

of  old  claims  contracted  in  tlie  State  from  which  they  came, 
and  which  the  Shjlocks  holding  them,  although  they  well 
knew  that  the  pretended  debtors  had,  expressly  in  consider- 
ation of  getting  rid  of  them,  put  themselves  to  the  pains  of 
exile  and  to  the  losses  and  discomforts  of  leaving  their  old 
homes  and  settling  in  a  new  country,  in  fraudulent  violation 
of  this  object,  were  ruinously  seeking  to  enforce,  even  to  the 
deprivation  of  the  property  of  the  citizen.  In  one  instance, 
a  cashier  of  a  Bank  in  Alabama  brought  on  claims  against 
some  of  the  best  citizens  of  the  country,  to  a  large  amount, 
and  instituted  suits  on  them.  Col.  Suggs  was  retained  to 
defend  them.  The  cashier,  a  venerable-looking  old  gentle- 
man, who  had  extorted  promises  of  payment,  or  at  least  had 
heard  from  the  debtors  promises  of  payment,  which  their 
necessitous  circumstances  had  extorted,  but  to  which  he  well 
knew  they  did  not  attach  much  importance,  was  waiting  to 
become  a  witness  against  them.  Col.  Suggs  so  concerted 
operations,  as  to  have  some  half-dozen  of  the  most  worthless 
of  the  population  follow  the  old  gentleman  about  whenever 
he  went  out  of  doors,  and  to  be  seen  with  him  on  various 
occasions;  and  busying  himself  in  circulating  through  the 
community,  divers  reports  disparaging  the  reputation  of  the 
witness,  got  the  cases  ready  for  trial.  It  was  agreed  that 
oyie  verdict  should  settle  all  the  cases.  The  defendant 
pleaded  the  statute  of  limitations ;  and  to  do  away  with  the 
effect  of  it,  the  plaintiff  offered  the  cashier  as  a  witness. 
Xot  a  single  question  was  asked  on  cross-examination ;  but 
a  smile  of  derision,  which  was  accompanied  by  a  foreordain- 


1:38  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

cd  titter  behind  the  bar,  was  visible  on  the  faces  of  Simon 
and  his  clientj  as  he  testified.  The  defendant  then  offered 
a  dozen  or  more  witnesses,  who,  much  to  the  surprise  of  the 
venerable  cashier,  discredited  him ;  and  the  jury,  without 
leaving  the  box,  found  a  verdict  for  the  defendant.  The 
cashier  was  about  moving  for  a  new  trial,  when,  it  being 
intimated  to  him  that  a  warrant  was  about  to  be  issued  foi 
his  apprehension  on  a  charge  of  perjury,  he  concluded  not  to 
see  the  result  of  such  a  process,  and  indignantly  left  the 
country. 

The  criminal  practice,  especially,  fascinated  the  regards 
and  engaged  the  attention  of  CoL  Suggs,  as  a  department  of 
his  profession  and  energies.  He  soon  became  acquainted 
with  all  the  arts  and  contrivances  by  which  public  justice  is 
circumvented.  Indictments  that  could  not  be  quashed,  were 
sometimes  mysteriously  out  of  the  way  ;  and  the  clerk  had 
occasion  to  reproach  his  carelessness  in^iiot  filing  them  in  the 
proper  places,  when,  some  days  after  cases  had  been  dis- 
missed for  the  want  of  them,  they  were  discovered  by  him  in 
some  old  file,  or  among  the  executions.  He  was  requested, 
or  rather  he  volunteered  in  one  capital  case,  to  draw  a  re- 
cognizance for  a  committing  magistrate,  as  he  (Suggs)  wasf 
idly  looking  on,  not  being  concerned  in  the  trial,  and  so 
felicitously  did  he  happen  to  introduce  the  negative  particle 
in  the  condition  of  the  bond,  that  he  bound  the  defendant, 
under  a  heavy  penalty,  ''  not  "  to  appear  at  court  and  an- 
swer to  the  charge ;  which  appearance,  doubtless,  much 
against  his  will,  and  merely  to  save  his  sureties,  the  defend- 
ant proceeded  faithfully  not  to  make. 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR. J    ESQ.;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRArHY.  139 

Col.  Suo^o-s  also  extricated  a  client  and  his  sureties  from 

CO 

a  forfeited  recognizance,  by  having  the  defaulting  defend- 
ant's obituary  notice  somewhat  prematurely  inserted  in  the 
newspapers;  the  solicitor,  seeing  which,  discontinued  pro- 
ceedings ;  for  which  service,  the  deceased,  immediately  after 
the  adjournment  of  court,  returned  to  the  officer  his  personal 
acknowledgments :  "  not  that,"  as  he  expressed  it,  "  it  mat- 
tered any  thing  to  him  personally,  but  because  it  ivoidd  have 
aggravated  the  feelings  of  his  friends  he  had  left  behind 
him,  to  of  let  the  thing  rip  arter  he  was  defunck." 

The  most  difficult  case  Col.  Suggs  ever  had  to  manage, 
was  to  extricate  a  client  from  jail,  after  sentence  of  death 
had  been  passed  upon  him.  But  difficulties,  so  far  from 
discouraging  him,  only  had  the  effect  of  stimulating  his 
energies.  He  procured  the  aid  of  a  young  physician  in  the 
premises — the  prisoner  was  suddenly  taken  ill — the  physician 
pronounced  the  disease  small  pox.  The  wife  of  the  pris- 
oner, with  true  womanly  devotion,  attended  on  him.  The 
prisoner,  after  a  few  a  days,  was  reported  dead,  and  the 
doctor  gave  out  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  approach  the 
corpse.  A  coffin  was  brought  into  the  jail,  and  the  wife  was 
put  into  it  by  the  physician — she  being  enveloped  in  her 
husband's  clothes.  The  coffin  was  put  in  a  cart  and  driven 
off- — the  husband,  habited  in  the  woman's  apparel,  following 
after,  mourning  piteously,  until,  getting  out  of  the  village,  he 
disappeared  in  the  thicket,  where  he  found  a  horse  prepared 
for  him.  The  wife  obstinately  refused  to  be  buried  in  the 
husband's  place  when   she  got  to  the  grave  ;  but  the  mis- 


140  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

take  was  discovered  too  late  for  the  recapture  of  the 
prisoner. 

The  tact  and  address  of  Col.  Suggs  opposed  such  obsta- 
cles to  the  enforcement  of  the  criminal  law  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  that,  following  the  example  of  the  English  gov- 
ernment, when  Irish  patriotism  begins  to  create  annoyances, 
the  State  naturally  felt  anxious  to  engage  his  services  in  its 
behalf  Accordingly,  at  the  meeting  of  the  Arkansas  leg- 
islature, at  its  session  of  184-,  so  soon  as  the  matter  of 
the  killing  a  member  on  the  floor  of  the  house,  by  the 
speaker,  with  a  Bowie  knife,  was  disposed  of  by  a  reso- 
lution of  mild  censure,  for  imprudent  precipitancy,  Simon 
Suggs,  Jr.,  Esquire,  was  elected  solicitor  for  the  Racken- 
sack  district.  Col.  Suggs  brought  to  the  discharge  of  the 
duties  of  his  office  energies  as  unimpaired  and  vigorous  as  in 
the  days  of  his  first  practice ;  and  entered  upon  it  with  a 
mind  free  from  the  vexations  of  domestic  cares,  having  pro- 
cured a  divorce  from  his  wife  on  the  ground  of  infidelity, 
but  magnanimously  giving  her  one  of  the  negroes,  and  a  horse, 
saddle  and  bridle. 

The  business  of  the  State  now  flourished  beyond  all  pre- 
cedent. Indictments  multiplied  :  and  though  many  of  them 
were  not  tried — the  solicitor  discovering,  after  the  finding 
of  them,  as  he  honestly  confessed  to  the  court,  that  the  evi- 
dence would  not  support  them  :  yet,  the  Colonel  could  well 
say,  with  an  eminent  English  barrister,  that  if  he  tried  few- 
er cases  in  court,  he  settled  more  cases  out  of  court  than  any 
other  counsel. 


SIMON    SUGGS,    JR. J    ESQ.  ;     A    LEGAL    BIOGRAPHY.  141 

The  marriage  of  Col.  Suggs,  some  three  years  after  his 
appointment  of  solicitor,  with  the  lovely  and  accomplished 
Che-wee-na-tubbe,  daughter  of  a  distinguished  prophet  and 
warrior,  and  head-man  of  the  neighboring  territory  of  the 
Choctaw  Indians,  induced  his  removal  into  that  beautiful  and 
improving  country.  His  talents  and  connections  at  one 
raised  him  to  the  councils  of  that  interesting  people ;  and 
he  received  the  appointment  of  agent  for  the  settlement  of 
claims  on  the  part  of  that  tribe,  and  particular  individuals 
of  it,  upon  the  treasury  of  the  United  States.  This  respon- 
sible and  lucrative  office  now  engages  the  time  and  talents 
of  Col.  Suggs,  who  may  be  seen  every  winter  at  Washington, 
faithfully  and  laboriously  engaged  with  members  of  Congress 
and  in  the  departments,  urging  the  matters  of  his  misssion 
upon  the  dull  sense  of  the  Janitors  of  the  Federal  Treasury. 

May  his  shadow  never  grow  less  ;  and  may  the  Indians 
live  to  get  their  dividends  of  the  arrears  paid  to  their  agent. 


142  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TTMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


SQUIRE  A.  AND  THE  FRITTERS. 

Now,  in  the  times  we  write  of,  the  flourishing  village  of 
M.  was  in  its  infancy.  She  had  not  dreamed  of  the  great 
things  in  store  for  her  when  she  should  have  reached  her  teens, 
and  railroad  cars  crowded  with  visitors,  should  make  her  the 
belle-village  of  all  the  surrounding  country.  A  few  log  houses 
hastily  erected  and  overcrowded  with  inmates,  alone  were  to  be 
seen;  nor  did  the  inn,  either  in  the  order  or  style  of  its  architec- 
ture, or  in  the  beauty  or  comfort  of  its  interior  arrangements 
and  accommodations,  differ  from  the  other  and  less  public  ed- 
ifices about  her.  In  sober  truth,  it  must  be  confessed  that, 
like  the  great  man  after  whom  she  was  named,  the  promise 
of  her  youth  was  by  no  means  equal  to  the  respectability  of 
her  more  advanced  age.  It  was  the  season  of  the  year  most 
unpropitious  to  the  development  of  the  resources  of  the 
landlord  and  the  skill  of  the  cook.  Fall  had  set  in,  and  flour 
made  cakes  were  not  set  out.  Wheat  was  not  then  an  arti- 
cle of  home  growth,  and  supplies  of  flour  were  only  to  be 
got  from  Mobile,  and  not  from  thence,  unless  the  Tombig- 
bee  river  was  up ;  so,  for  a  long  time,  the  boarders  and 
guests  of  the  tavern  had  to  rough  it  on  corn  dodger^  as  it 


SQUIRE  A.  AND  THE  FRITTERS.  143 

was  called,  greatly  to  their  discontent.  At  length  the  joyful 
tidings  were  proclaimed,  that  a  barrel  of  flour  had  come  from 
Mobile.  Much  excitement  prevailed.  An  animated  discus- 
sion arose  as  to  the  form  in  which  the  new  aliment  should  be 
served  up  ;  and  on  the  motion  of  A.,  who  eloquently  second- 
ed his  own  resolution,  it  was  determined  that  Fritters  should 
be  had  for  supper  that  night.  Supper  time  dragged  its  slow 
length  along :   it  came,  however,  at  last. 

There  were  a  good  many  boarders  at  the  Inn — som.e 
twenty  or  more — and  but  one  negro  waiter,  except  a  servant 
of  J.  T.,  whom  he  kept  about  him,  and  who  waited  at  table. 
Now,  if  Squire  A.  had  any  particular  weakness,  it  was  in  fa- 
vor of  fritters.  Fritters  were  a  great  favorite,  even />^?*  se; 
but  in  the  dearth  of  edibles,  they  were  most  especially  so. 
He  had  a  way  of  eating  them  with  molasses,  which  gave 
them  a  rare  and  delectable  relish.  Accordingly,  seating  him- 
self the  first  at  the  table,  and  taking  a  position  next  the  door 
nearest  to  the  kitchen,  he  prepared  himself  for  the  onslaught. 
He  ordered  a  soup-plate  and  filled  it  half  full  of  molasses — 
tucked  up  his  sleeves — brought  the  public  towel  from  the 
roller  in  the  porch,  and  fixed  it  before  him  at  the  neck,  so 
as  to  protect  his  whole  bust — and  stood  as  ready  as  the  jolly 
Abbot  over  the  haunch  of  venison,  at  the  widow  Glendin- 
ning's,  to  do  full  justice  to  the  provant,  when  announced. 

Now,  A.  had  a  distinguished  reputation  and  immense  skill 
in  the  art  and  mystery  of  fritter  eating.  How  many  he  could 
eat  at  a  meal  I  forget,  if  I  ever  heard  him  say,  but  /should 
say— making  allowances  for  exaggeration  in  such  things— from 


144     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

the  various  estimates  I  have  heard,  well  on  to  the  matter 
of  a  bushel —  possibly  a  half  a  peck  or  so,  more  or  less. 
"When  right  brown  and  reeking  with  fresh  fat,  it  would  take  as 
many  persons  to  feed  him  as  a  carding-machine.  Sam  Hark- 
ness  used  to  say,  that  if  a  wick  were  run  down  his  throat  af- 
ter a  fritter  dinner,  and  lit,  it  would  burn  a  week — but  I  don't 
believe  that. 

He  used  no  implement  in  eating  but  a  fork.  He  passed 
the  fork  through  the  fritter  in  such  a  way  as  to  break  its 
back,  and  double  it  up  in  the  form  of  the  letter  W,  and  press- 
ing it  through  and  closing  up  the  lines,  would  flourish  it 
around  in  the  molasses  two  or  three  times,  and  then  convey 
it,  whole,  to  his  mouth — drawing  the  fork  out  with  a  sort  of 
c-h-u-g. 

If  A.  ever  intended  to  have  his  daguerreotype  taken — 
that  was  the  time — for  a  more  hopeful,  complacent,  benevo- 
lent cast  of  countenance,  I  never  saw  than  his,  when  the 
door  being  left  a  little  ajar,  the  cook  could  be  seen  in  the 
kitchen,  making  time  about  the  skillet,  and  the  fat  was  heard 
cheerfully  spitting  and  spattering  in  the  pan. 

"  But  pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread,"  and  so  forth. 
As  when  some  guileless  cock-robin  is  innocently  regaling 
himself  in  the  chase  of  a  rainbow  spangled  butterfly,  pois- 
ing himself  on  wing,  and  in  the  very  act  of  conveying  the 
gay  insect  to  his  expectant  spouse  for  domestic  use,  some  ill- 
omened  vulture,  seated  in  solitary  state  on  a  tree  hard  by, 
unfurls  his  wing,  and  swoops  in  fell  destruction  upon  the 
hapless  warbler,  leaving  nothing  of  this  scene  of  peace  and 


SQUIRE  A.  AND  THE  FRITTERS.  145 

innocence  but  a  smothered  cry  and  a  string  of  feathers.  So 
did  J.  T.  look  upon  this  scene  of  Squire  A.'s  expectant  and 
hopeful  countenance  with  a  like  and  kindred  malignity  and 
fell  purpose.  In  plain  prose, — confederating  and  conspir- 
ing with  three  other  masterful  fritter  eaters  and  Sandy,  the 
amateur  waiter  at  the  Inn,  it  was  agreed  that  Sandy  should 
station  himself  at  the  door,  and,  as  the  waiting-girl  came  in 
with  the  fritters,  he  should  receive  the  plate,  and  convey 
the  same  to  the  other  confederates  for  their  special  behoof, 
to  the  entire  neglect  of  the  claim  of  Squire  A.  in  the  pre- 
mises. 

x\ccordingly  the  girl  brought  in  the  first  plate — which 
was  received  by  Sandy — Sandy  brought  the  plate  on  with 
stately  step  close  by  Squire  A. — the  Squire's  fork  was  raised 
to  transfix  at  least  six  of  the  smoking  cakes  with  a  contin- 
gency of  sweeping  the  whole  platter ;  but  the  wary  Sandy 
raised  the  plate  high  in  air,  nor  heeded  he  the  Squire's  ca- 
joling tones — "  Here,  Sandy,  here,  this  way,  Sandy."  Again 
the  plate  went  and  came,  but  with  no  better  success  to  the 
Squire.  Sandy  came  past  a  third  time — "  I  say,  Sandy,  this 
way — this  way — come  Sandy — come  now — do — I'll  remem- 
ber you;" — but  Sandy  walked  on  like  the  Queen  of  the  West 
unheeding ;  the  Squire  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  and 
looked  in  the  puddle  of  molasses  in  his  plate  sourly  enough 
to  have  fermented  it.  Again — again — again  and  yet  again 
— the  plate  passed  on — the  fritters  getting  browner  and 
browner,  and  distance  lending  enchantment  to  the  view :  but 
fche  Squire  couldn't  get  a  showing.     The  Squire  began  to  be 


146  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

peremptory,  and  threatened  Sandy  with  all  sorts  of  exter- 
mination for  his  contumacy ;  but  the  intrepid  servitor  passed 
along  as  if  he  had  been  deaf  and  dumb,  and  his  only  busi- 
ness to  carry  fritters  to  the  other  end  of  the  table.  At 
length  Sandy  came  back  with  an  empty  plate,  and  reported 
that  the  fritters  were  all  out.  The  Squire  could  con 
tain  himself  no  longer — unharnessing  himself  of  the  towel 
and  striking  his  fist  on  the  table,  upsetting  thereby  about  a 
pint  of  molasses  from  his  plate,  he  exclaimed  in  tones  of 
thunder,  "I'll  quit  this  dratted  house:  I'll  be  eternally  and 
constitutionally  dad  blamed,  if  I  stand  such  infernal  partial- 
ity !  "  and  rushed  out  of  the  house  into  the  porch,  where  he 
met  J.  T.,  who,  coolly  picking  his  teeth,  asked  the  Squire 
how  he  "  liked  the  fritters?  "  "We  need  not  give  the  reply 
— as  all  that  matter  was  afterwards  honourably  settled  by  a 
board  of  honor. 


JONATHAN    AND    THE    CONSTABLE  147 


JONATHAN   AND   THE   CONSTABLE. 

Now,  brother  Jonathao  was  a  distinguished  ^member  of 
the  fraternity,  and  had  maintained  a  leading  position  in  the 
profession  for  many  years,  ever  since,  indeed,  he  had  mi- 
grated from  the  land  of  steady  habits.  His  masculine  sense, 
acuteness  and  shrewdness,  were  relieved  and  mellowed  by 
fine  social  habits  and  an  original  and  genial  humor,  more 
grateful  because  coming  from  an  exterior  something  rigid 
and  inflexible.  He  had — and  we  hope  we  may  be  able  to 
say  so  for  thirty  years  yet — a  remarkably  acute  and  quick 
sense  of  the  ridiculous,  and,  like  other  humorists,  is  much 
fonder  of  turning  on  his  friends  their  own  batteries  than  of 
exposing  a  full  front  to  them  himself.  Some  fifty-five  years 
have  passed  over  his  head,  but  he  is  one  of  those  evergreen 
or  never-green  plants  upon  which  time  makes  but  little 
impression.  He  has  his  whims  and  prejudices,  and,  being 
an  elder  of  the  Presbyterian  church,  he  is  especially 
annoyed  by  a  drunken  man. 

It  so  happened  that  a  certain  Ned  Ellett  was  pretty  high, 
as  well  in  office  as  in  liquor,  one  drizzly  winter  evening — 
during  the  session  of  the  S.  Circuit  Court.     He  had  taken 


"148  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

in  charge  one  Nash,  a  horse-thief,  and  also  a  tickler  of  rye 
whiskey ;  and  this  double  duty  coming  upon  him  some- 
what unexpectedly,  was  more  than  he  could  well  sustain 
himself  under.  The  task  of  discharging  the  prisoner  over, 
Ned  was  sitting  by  the  fire  in  the  hall  of  the  Choctaw 
House,  in  deep  meditation  upon  the  mutations  in  human  af- 
fairs, when  he  received  a  summons  from  Jonathan,  to  come 
to  his  room,  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  a  letter  to  be  car- 
ried to  a  client  in  the  part  of  the  county  in  which  Ned  re- 
sided. It  was  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  Jonathan  and  I 
occupied  the  same  room  and  bed  on  the  ground-floor  of  the 
building,  and  I  had  retired  for  the  night. 

Presently  Ned  came  in,  and  took  his  seat  by  the  fire. 
The  spirits,  by  this  time,  began  to  produce  their  usual  efi'ects. 
Ned  was  habited  in  a  green  blanket  over-coat,  into  which  the 
rain  had  soaked,  and  the  action  of  the  fire  on  it  raised  a  eon 
siderable  fog.  Ned  was  a  raw-boned,  rough-looking  cusr 
tomer,  about  six  feet  high  and  weighing  about  two  hundred 
net — clothes,  liquor,  beard  and  all,  about  three  hundred. 
After  Jonathan  had  given  him  the  letter,  and  Ned  had  criti- 
cally examined  the  superscription,  remarking  something 
about  the  handwriting,  which,  sooth  to  say,  was  not  copy- 
plate — he  put  it  in  his  hat,  and  Jonathan  asked  him  some 
question  about  his  errand  to  L. 

"  Why,  Squire,"  said  Ned,  '^you  see  I  had  to  take  Nash 
— Nash  had  been  stealing  of  bosses,  and  I  had  a  warrant 
for  him  and  took  him. — Blass,  Nash  is  the  smartest  feller 
you  ever  see.     He  knovrs  about  most  every  thing  and  every 


•  JONATHAN    AND    THE    CONSTABLE.  149 

body.  lie  knows  all  the  lawyers,  Blass — I  tell  you  he  does, 
and  no  mistake.  He  was  the  merriest,  jovialest  feller  you 
ever  see,  and  can  sing  more  chronicle  songs  than  one  of  these 
show  fellers  that  comes  round  with  the  suckus.  He  didn't 
seem  to  mind  bein  took  than  a  pet  sheep.  I  tell  you  he 
didn't,  Blass — and  when  I  tell  you  a  thing,  Blass,  you  bet- 
ter had  believe  it,  you  had.  Blass,  did  you  ever  hear  of 
my  telling  a  lie  ?  No,  not  by  a  jug-fall.  Blass,  aint  I  an 
hones'  man?  (Yes,  said  B.,  I  guess  you  are.) — "  Gruess — 
Guess — I  say  guess.  Well,  as  I  was  a  saying,  about  Nash 
— I  asked  Nash,  what  he  was  doin  perusin  about  the  coun- 
try, and  Nash  said  he  was  just  perusin  about  the  country  to 
see  the  climit  ?  But  I  know'd  Harvey  Thompson  wouldn't 
like  me  to  be  bringin  a  prisner  in  loose,  so  I  put  the  strings 
on  .Nash,  and  then  his  feathers  drapped,  and  then  Blass,  he 
got  to  crying — and,  Blass,  he  told  me — (blubbering)  he  told 

me  about  his old  mother  in  Tennessee,  and  how  her 

heart  would  be  broke,  and  all  that — and,  Blass,  I'm  a  hard 
man  and  my  feelins  aint  easy  teched — but  (here  Ned  boohood 
right  out,)  Blass,  I'll  be if  I  can  bar  to  see  a  man  ex- 
hausted." 

Ned  drew  his  coat-sleeve  over  his  eyes,  blew  his  nose, 
and  snapped  his  fingers  over  the  fire  and  proceeded  :  ''  Blass, 
he  asked  about  you  and  Lewis  Scott,  and  what  for  a  law}"er 
you  was,  and  I'll  tell  you  jest  what  I  told  him,  Blass,  says  I 
old  Blass,  when  it  comes  to  hard  law,  Nash,  knows  about  all 
the  law  they  is — but  whether  he  kin  norate  it  from  the  stump 
or  not,  that's  the  question.  Blass,  show  me  down  some  of  theso 


150  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

pairs  of  stairs.  [They  were  on  tlie  ground-floor,  but  Ned,  no 
doubt,  was  entitled  to  think  himself  high.] — B.  showed  him 
out. 

All  this  time  I  was  possuming  sleep  in  the  bed  as  inno- 
cent as  a  lamb.  Blass  came  to  the  bedside  and  looked  in- 
quisitively on  for  a  moment,  and  went  to  disrobing  himself. 
All  I  could  hear  was  a  short  soliloquy — "  Well,  doesn't  that 
beat  all  ?  It's  one  comfort,  J.  didn't  hear  that — I  never 
would  have  heard  the  last  of  it.  It's  most  too  good  to  be 
lost.     I  believe  I'll  lay  it  on  him." 

I  got  up  in  the  morning,  and  as  I  was  drawing  on  my 
left  boot,  muttered  as  if  to  myself,  "  but  whither  he  kin  nor- 
ate  it  from  the  stump — thafs  the  question."  B.  turned  his 
head  so  suddenly — he  was  shaving,  sitting  on  a  trunk — that 
he  came  near  cutting  his  nose  off. 

"  You  doosn't  mean  to  say  you  eaves -dropped  and  heard 
that  drunken  fool — do  you  ?  Remember,  young  man,  that 
what  you  hear  said  to  a  lawyer  in  conference  is  confidential, 
and  don't  get  to  making  an  ass  of  yourself,  by  blabbing  this 
thing  all  over  town."  I  told  him  ''  I  thought  I  should  have 
to  norate  it  a  little." 


SHARP    FINANCIERING  151 


SHARP  FINANCIERING. 

In  the  times  of  1836,  there  dwelt  in  the  pleasant  town  of 
T.  a  smooth  oily-mannered  gentleman,  who  diversified  a  com- 
monplace pursuit  by  some  exciting  episodes  of  finance — deal- 
ing occasionally  in  exchange,  buying  and  selling  uncur- 
rent  money,  &c.  "We  will  suppose  this  gentleman's  name  to 
be  Thompson.  It  happened  that  a  Mr.  Ripley  of  North  Ca- 
rolina, was  in  T.,  having  some  $1200,  in  North  Carolina 
money,  and  desiring  to  return  to  the  old  North  State  with 
his  funds,  not  wishing  to  encounter  the  risk  of  robbery 
through  the  Creek  country,  in  which  there  were  rumors  of 
hostilities  between  the  whites  and  the  Indians,  he  bethought 
him  of  buying  exchange  on  Raleigh,  as  the  safest  mode  of 
transmitting  his  money.  On  inquiry  he  was  referred  to  Mr. 
Thompson,  as  the  only  person  dealing  in  exchange  in  that 
place.  He  called  on  Mr.  T.  and  made  known  his  wishes. 
With  his  characteristic  politeness,  Mr.  Thompson  agreed  to 
accommodate  him  with  a  sight  bill  on  his  correspondent  in 
Raleigh,  charging  him  the  moderate  premium  of  five  per  cent, 
for  it.     Mr.    Thompson  retired  into  his  counting-room,  and 


152  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

in  a  few  minutes  returned  with  the  bill  and  a  letter,  which 
he  delivered  to  Mr.  Kipley,  at  the  same  time  receiving  the 
money  from  that  gentleman  plus  the  exchange.  As  the  in- 
terlocutors were  exchanging  valedictory  compliments,  it  oc- 
curred to  Mr.  Thompson  that  it  would  be  a  favor  to  him  if 
Mr.  Eipley  would  be  so  kind  as  to  convey  to  Mr.  T.'s  corres- 
pondent a  package  he  was  desirous  of  sending,  which  request 
Mr.  Ripley  assured  Mr.  T.  it  would  afford  him  great  pleasure 
to  comply  with.  Mr.  Thompson  then  handed  Mr.  Ripley  a 
package,  strongly  enveloped  and  sealed,  addressed  to  the 
Raleigh  Banker,  after  which  the  gentlemen  parted  with  many 
polite  expressions  of  regard  and  civility. 

Arriving  without  any  accident  or  hindrance  at  Raleigh,  Mr. 
Ripley's  first  care  was  to  call  on  the  Banker  and  present  his 
documents.  He  found  him  at  his  office,  presented  the  bill 
and  letter  to  him,  and  requested  payment  of  the  former.  That, 
said  the  Banker,  will  depend  a  good  deal  upon  the  contents 
of  the  package.  Opening  which,  Mr.  Ripley  found  the  iden- 
tical bills,  minus  the  premium,  he  had  paid  Mr.  T.  for  his 
bill  :  and  which  the  Banker  paid  over  to  that  gentleman, 
who  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  the  expert  Mr. 
Thompson  had  charged  him  five  per  cent,  for  carrying  his 
own  money  to  Raleigh,  to  avoid  the  risk  and  trouble  of  which 
he  had  bought  the  exchange. 

T.  used  to  remark  that  that  was  the  safest  operation,  all 
around,  he  ever  knew.  He  had  got  his  exchange — the  buyer 
had  got  his  bill  and  the  money,  too, — and  the  drawee  was 
fully  protected  !     There  was  profit  without  outlay  or  risk. 


CAVE  boRTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  ♦I'^S 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OP  KENTUCKY. 

Prominent  among  the  lawyers  that  had  gathered  into 
the  new  country,  was  Cave  Burton.  Cave  was  a  man  of 
mark  :  not  very  profoundly  versed  in  the  black  letter,  but 
adapting,  or,  more  properly,  applying  his  talents  to  the  slang- 
whanging  departments  of  the  profession.  He  went  in  for  gab. 
A  court  he  could  not  see  the  use  of — the  jury  was  the  thing 
for  him.  And  he  was  for  ^'-jurying'''  every  thing,  and  allowing 
the  jury — the  apostolic  twelve  as  he  was  wont  to  call  them 
— a  very  free  exercise  of  their  privileges,  uncramped  by  any 
impertinent  interference  of  the  court.  Cave  thought  the 
judge  an  aristocratic  institution,  but  the  jury  was  republic- 
anism in  action.  He  liked  a  free  swing  at  them.  He  had 
no  idea  of  being  interrupted  on  presumed  misstatements,  or 
out-of-the-record  revelations  :  he  liked  to  be  communicative 
when  he  was  speaking  to  them,  and  was  not  stingy  with  any 
little  scraps  of  gossip,  or  hearsay,  or  neighborhood  reports, 
which  he  had  been  able  to  pick  up  concerning  the  matter  in 
hand  or  the  parties.  He  was  fond,  too,  of  giving  his  private 
experiences — as  if  he  were  at  a  love-feast — and  was  profuse 


154  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

of  personal  assurances  and  solemn  asseverations  of  personal 
belief  or  knowledge  of  fact  and  of  law.  He  claimed  Ken- 
tucky for  his  native  State,  and  for  a  reason  that  will  suggest 
itself  at  once,  was  called  by  the  bar  the  Blowing  Cave. 
Cave  had  evidently  invoiced  himself  very  high  when  he  came 
out,  thinking  rather  of  the  sj^ecific  than  the  ad,  valorem 
standard.  He  had,  to  hear  him  tell  it,  renounced  so  many 
advantages,  and  made  such  sacrifices,  for  the  happy  privilege 
of  getting  to  the  backwoods,  that  the  people,  out  of  sheer 
gratitude,  should  have  set  great  store  by  so  rare  an  article 
brought  out  at  such  cost : — but  they  didn't  do  it.  He  had 
brought  his  wares  to  the  wrong  market.  The  market  w^as 
glutted  with  brass.  And  although  that  metal  was  indispen- 
sable, yet  it  was  valuable  only  for  plating.  Burton  was  the 
pure  metal  all  through.  He  might  have  been  moulded  at  a 
brass  foundry.  He  had  not  much  intellect,  but  what  he  had 
he  kept  going  with  a  wonderful  clatter.  Indeed,  with  his 
habits  and  ignorance,  it  were  better  not  to  have  had  more, 
unless  he  had  a  great  deal ;  for  his  chief  capital  was  an  un- 
consciousness of  how  ridiculous  he  was  making  himself,  and 
a  total  blindness  as  to  the  merits  of  his  case,  which  protected 
him,  as  a  somnambulist  is  protected  from  falling,  by  being 
unconscious  of  danger.  He  was  just  as  good  on  a  bad  cause 
as  on  a  good  one,  and  just  as  -  bad  on  a  good  side 
as  on  a  bad  one.  The  first  intimation  he  had  of  how  a  case 
ought  to  go,  was  on  seeing  how  it  had  gone.  Discrimination 
was  not  his  forte.  Indeed,  accuracy  of  any  kind  was  not  his 
forte.     He  lumbered  away  lustily,  very  well   content  if  he 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  155 

were  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  factor  proposition,  without 
seeming  to  expect  to  be  at  the  precise  point.  He  had  a  good 
deal  of  that  sort  of  wit  which  comes  of  a  bold,  dashing  au- 
dacity, without  fear  or  care  ;  such  wit  as  a  man  has  who  lets 
his  tongue  swing  free  of  all  control  of  judgment,  memory,  or 
taste,  or  conscience.  He  scattered  like  an  old  shot-gun,  and 
occasionally,  as  he  was  always  firing,  some  of  the  shot  would 
hit. 

A  large,  red-faced,  burly  fellow,  good-natured  and  un- 
scrupulous, with  a  good  run  of  anecdote  and  natural  humor, 
and  some  power  of  narrative,  was  Cave, — a  monstrous  dem- 
agogue withal,  and  a  free  and  easy  sort  of  creature,  who  liv- 
ed as  if  he  expected  to-day  were  all  the  time  he  had  to  live 
in  :  and  who  considered  the  business  of  the  day  over  when 
he  had  got  his  three  meals  with  intermediate  drinks. 

I  cannot  say  Burton  was  a  liar.  I  never  knew  him  to 
fabricate  a  lie  ^^  out  and  out" — outside  of  the  bar; — his  in- 
vention was  hardly  sufficient  for  that.  In  one  sense,  his 
regard  for  truth  was  considerable — indeed,  so  great  that  he 
spent  most  of  his  conversation  in  embellishing  it.  It  was  a 
sponging  habit  he  had  of  building  on  other  men's  founda- 
tions ;  but  having  got  a  start  in  this  way,  it  is  wonderful 
how  he  laid  on  his  own  work. 

Cave,  like  almost  every  other  demagogue  I  ever  knew, 
was  "  considerable  "  in  all  animal  appetites  :  he  could  dis- 
pose of  the  provant  in  a  way  Capt.  Dalgetty  would  have  ad- 
mired, and,  like  the  Captain,  he  was  not  very  nice  as  to  the 
kind  or  quality  of  the  viands ;  or,  rather,  he  had  a  happy 


156  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

faculty  of  making  up  in  quantity  what  was  lacking  in  quality. 
I  don't  think  he  ever  rose  from  a  table  satisfied,  though  he 
often  rose  surfeited.  You  might  founder  him  before  you 
could  subdue  his  appetite.  He  was  as  good  in  liquids  as  in 
solids.  He  never  refused  a  drink  :  the  parable  of  neglected 
invitations  would  have  had  no  application  to  him  if  he  had 
lived  in  those  times.  You  might  wake  him  up  at  midnight 
to  take  something  hot  or  cold,  edible  or  liquor,  and  he  would 
take  his  full  allowance,  and  smack  his  lips  for  more.  He 
could  scent  out  a  frolic  like  a  raven  a  carcass — by  a  separate 
instinct.  He  always  fell  in  just  in  time.  He  was  not  a 
sponge.  He  would  as  soon  treat  as  be  treated,  if  he  had 
any  thing — as  under  the  credit  system  he  had — to  treat 
with ;  but  the  main  thing  was  the  provant,  and  loafing  was 
one  of  his  auxiliaries.  He  had  a  clamorous  garrison  in  his 
bowels  that  seemed  to  be  always  in  a  state  of  siege,  and 
boisterous  for  supplies.  Cave's  idea  of  money  was  connected 
inseparably  with  bread  and  meat  and  ''sperits:"  money 
was  not  the  representative  of  value  in  his  political  economy, 
but  the  representative  of  breakfast,  dinner,  supper  and 
liquor.  He  was  never  really  pathetic,  though  always  trying 
it,  until  he  came  to  describing,  in  defending  against  a  pro- 
missory note,  the  horrors  of  want,  that  is,  of  hunger — then 
he  really  ivas  touching,  for  he  was  earnest,  and  he  shed 
tears  like  a  watering  pot.  He  reckoned  every  calamity  by 
the  standard  of  the  stomach.  If  a  man  lost  money,  he  con- 
sidered it  a  diversion  of  so  much  from  the  natural  aliment. 
If  he  lost  his  health,  so   much  was  discounted  from  life, 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  157 

that  is,  from  good  living  :  if  he  died,  death  had  stopped  his 
rations.  Cave  had  a  mean  idea  of  war,  and  never  voted  for 
a  military  man  in  his  life.  It  wasted  too  much  of  the  fruits 
of  the  earth.  An  account  of  a  campaign  never  excited  his 
horror,  until  the  fasting  of  the  soldiers  and  the  burning  of 
the  supplies  was  treated  of — then  he  felt  it  like  a  nightmare. 
Cave  had  a  small  opinion  of  clothes ;  they  were  but  a  shal 
low,  surface  mode  of  treating  the  great  problem,  man.  He 
went  deeper ;  he  was  for  providing  for  the  inner  man — 
though  his  idea  of  human  nature  never  went  beyond  the 
entrails.  Studying  human  nature  with  him  was  anatomy 
and  physic,  and  testing  the  capacity  of  the  body  for  feats  of 
the  knife  and  fork.  A  great  man  with  him  was  not  so  much 
shown  by  what  he  could  do,  as  by  what  he  could  hold ;  not 
by  what  he  left,  but  by  what  he  consumed. 

Cave's  mind  was  in  some  doubt  as  to  things  in  which  the 
majority  of  men  are  agreed.  For  example,  he  was  not  satis- 
fied that  Esau  made  as  foolish  a  bargain  with  his  brother 
Jacob  as  some  think.  Before  committing  himself,  he  should 
like  to  taste  the  pottage,  and  see  some  estimate  of  the  net 
value  of  the  birthright  in  the  beef  and  venison  market.  If 
the  birthright  were  a  mere  matter  of  pride  and  precedence, 
Cave  was  not  sure  that  Esau  had  not  ''  sold  "  the  father  of 
Israel. 

If  Cave  had  had  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  he  would 
have  laid  it  all  out  in  provisions  ;  for  non  constat  there 
ntight  be  no  more  made  ;  at  any  rate,  he  would  have  enough 
to  answer  all  the  ends  and  aims  of  life,  which  are  to  eat  and 
drink  as  much  as  possible. 


158     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

Cave  attended  the  Episcopal  church  every  Sunday  when 
there  was  service — i.  e.  once  a  month,  and,  though  his  atten- 
tion was. a  little  drowsy  during  most  of  the  services,  yet  he 
brightened  up  mightily  when  the  preacher  read  the  prayer 
against  famine,  and  for  preserving  the  kindly  fruits  of  the 
earth  to  be  enjoyed  in  due  season. 

Cave  was  some  forty-five  years  of  age  at  the  time  I  am 
writing  of : — so  long  had  he  warred  on  the  pantry. 

He  was  an  active  man,  indeed  some  part  of  him  was  al- 
wa^^s  going — ^jaws,  tongue,  hands  or  legs,  and  to  a  more  lim- 
ited extent,  brains.  He  never  was  idle.  Indeed,  taking  in 
such  fuel,  he  couldn't  well  help  going.  Even  in  sleep  he 
was  not  quiet.  Such  fighting  with  unknown  enemies — pro- 
bably the  ghosts  of  the  animals  he  had  consumed ; — such 
awful  contortions  of  countenance,  and  screams — and,  when 
most  quiet,  such  snorings  (he  once  set  a  passenger  running 
down  stairs  with  his  trunk,  thinking  it  was  the  steamboat 
coming),  you,  possibly,  never  heard.  I  slept  with  him  one 
night  (I  blush  to  tell  it)  on  the  circuit,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
in  spasms,  going  off  at  last  into  a  suppressed  rattle  in  the 
throat :  I  thought  he  was  dying,  and  after  some  trouble,  woke 
him.  He  opened  his  eyes,  and  rolled  them  around,  like  a 
goose  egg  on  an  axle.  ''  Cave,"  said  I,  "  Cave — can  I  do 
any  thing  for  you  ?  " 

^'  Yes,"  was  his  answer.  "  Look  in  my  saddle-bags,  and 
get  me  a  black  bottle  of '  red-eye.'  " 

I  got  it ;  he  drank  almost  a  half  pint,  and  went  to  slee 
like  a  child  that  has  just  received  its  nourishment. 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.         159 

Burton  had  largely  stored  his  memory  with  all  mamicr 
of  slang-phrases  and  odd  expressions,  whereby  he  gave  his 
speech  a  relish  of  variety  somewhat  at  the  expense  of  classic 
purity.  Indeed,  his  mind  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  water-gate, 
which  caught  and  retained  the  foam  and  trash,  but  let  the 
main  stream  pass  through. 

But,  as  honest  Bunyan  hath  it,  we  detain  the  reader  too 
long  in  the  porch. 

In  the  Christmas  week  of  the  year  of  Grace,  1838,  some 
of  us  were  preparing  to  celebrate  that  jovial  time  by  asocial 
gathering  at  Dick  Bowling's  office.  There  were  about  a 
dozen  of  us,  as  fun-lovicg  '  youth!!  as  since  the  old  frolics  at 
Cheapside  or  the  Boar's  Head,  ever  met  together,  the  judge 
and  the  State's  attorney  among  them.  TJie  boats  had  just 
got  up,  on  their  first  trip,  from  Mobile,  and  had  brought, 
on  a  special  order  Dick  had  given,  three  barrels  of  oysters, 
a  demijohn  of  Irish  whiskey,  and  a  box  of  lemons.  Those 
were  not  the  days  of  invitations  :  a  lawyer's  office,  night  or 
day,  was  as  public  a  place  as  the  court-house,  and,  among  the 
members  of  the  bar  at  that  early  period,  there  were  no  priv- 
ileged seats  at  a  frolic  any  more  than  in  the  pit  of  a  theatre. 
All  came  who  chose.  Old  Judge  Sawbridge,  who  could  tell 
from  smelling  a  cork  the  very  region  whence  the  liquor  came, 
and  could,  by  looking  into  the  neck  of  the  bottle,  tell  the 
age  as  well  as  a  jockey  could  the  age  of  a  horse  by  looking 
into  his  mouth,  was  there  before  the  bells  had  rung  for  the 
tavern  supper.  Several  of  the  rest  were  in  before  long. 
Burton  had  not  come  yet.     The  old  Judge  suggested  a  trick, 


160  J<KETCHES    OP    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

which  was  to  get  Burton  to  telling  one  of  his  Kentucky  yarns 
and,  as  he  was  in  the  agony  of  it,  to  withdraw,  one  by  one, 
and  eat  up  all  the  oysters.  We  agreed  to  try  it,  but  doubt- 
ed very  much  the  success  of  the  experiment ;  although  the 
Judge  seemed  to  be  sanguine. 

Dropping  in,  one  by  one,  at  last  all  came,  filling  the  room 
pretty  well.  Among  them  was  Cave.  That  domestic  bereave- 
ment which  had  kept  him  from  such  a  gathering,  were  a  sad 
one.  He  entered  the  room  in  high  feather.  He  was  in  fine 
spirits,  ardent  and  animal.  If  he  had  been  going,  twenty 
years  before,  to  a  trysting-place,  he  could  not  have  been  in 
a  gayer  frame  of  mind.  He  came  prepared.  He  had  ravish- 
ed himself  from  the  supper  table,  scarceljr  eating  any  thing 
— three  or  four  cups  of  coffee,  emptying  the  cream-pitcher  of. 
its  sky-blue  milk,  a  card  of  spare-ribs  and  one  or  two  feet  of 
stufi'ed  sausages,  or  some  such  matter  ;  a  light  condiment  of 
''  cracklin  bread,"  and  a  half  pint  of  hog-brains  thrown  in  just 
by  way  of  jjarenthesis.  He  merely  took  in  these  trifles  by 
way  of  sandwich,  to  provoke  his  appetite  for  the  main  exer- 
cises of  the  evening.  When  he  came  in  the  fire  was  booming 
and  crackling — a  half  cord  of  hickory  having  been  piled  upon 
the  broad  hearth.     The  night  was  cold,  clear,  and  frosty. 

The  back  room  adjoining  was  as  busy  as  a  barracks,  in 
the  culinary  preparations.  The  oysters,  like  our  clients, 
were  being  forced,  w^ith  characteristic  reluctance,  to  shell  out. 
And  as  the  knife  went  tip,  tip,  tip,  on  the  shells,  Cave's 
mouth  watered  like  the  bivalve's,  as  he  caught  the  sound — 
more  delicious  music  to  his  ears  than   Jenny  Lind  and  the 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  161 

whole  Italian  troupe  could  give  out.  His  spirits  rose  in  this 
congenial  atmosphere  like  the  spirits  in  a  barometer.  He 
was  soon  in  a  gale,  as  if  he  had  been  taking  laughing  gas. 
Kow  Cave  was  as  fond  of  oysters  as  a  seal.  A  regiment  of 
such  men  on  the  sea-shore,  or  near  the  oyster  banks,  would 
have  exterminated  the  species  in  a  season.  The  act  against 
the  destruction  of  the  oyster  ought  to  have  embraced  Cave 
in  a  special  clause  of  interdiction  from  their  use.  He  used 
to  boast  that  he  and  D.  L.  had  never  failed  to  break  an  oys- 
ter cellar  in  Tuscaloosa  whenever  they  made  a  run  on  it. 

Judge  Sawbridge  made  a  pass  at  him  as  soon  almost  as 
he  was  seated.  He  commenced  by  inquiring  after  some 
Kentucky  celebrities — Crittenden,  Hardin,  Wickliffe,  &c., 
whom  he  found  intimate  friends  of  Cave ;  and  then  he  asked 
Cave  to  tell  him  the  anecdote  he  had  heard  repeated,  but  not 
in  its  particulars,  of  the  Earthquake-story.  He  led  up  to 
Cave's  strong  suit :  for  if  there  was  one  thing  that  Cave  liked 
better  th^  every  thing  else,  eating  and  drinking  excepted,  it 
was  telling  a  story;  and  if  he  liked  telling  any  one  story  bet- 
ter than  any  other,  it  was  the  Earthquake-story.  This  story 
was,  like  Frank  Plummer's  speech  on  the  Wiscasset  collector- 
ship,  interminable  ;  and,  like  Frank's  speech,  the  principal 
part  of  it  bore  no  imaginable  relation  to  the  ostensible  sub- 
ject. No  mortal  man  had  ever  heard  the  end  of  this  story  : 
like  Coleridge's  soliloquies,  it  branched  out  with  innumerable 
suggestions,  each  in  its  turn  the  parent  of  others,  and  these 
again  breeding  a  new  spawn,  so  that  the  further  he  travelled 
the  less  he  went  on.     Like  Kit  Kunker's  dog  howling  after 


162    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

the  singing  master  and  getting  tangled  up  in  the  tune,  the 
denouement  was  lost  in  the  episodes.  What  the  story  was 
originally,  could  not  be  conjectured ;  for  Cave  had  gone 
over  tlie  ground  so  often,  that  the  first  and  many  subsequent 
traces  were  rubbed  out  by  later  footprints.  Cave,  however, 
refreshing  himself  with  about  a  pint  of  hot- stuff,  rose, 
turned  his  back  to  the  fire,  and,  parting  his  coat-tail,  and 
squatting  two  or  three  times  as  was  his  wont  when  in  the  act 
of  speaking,  began 

C  t)  e  ©  a  r  t !)  t|  u  a  k  e  -  0 1  a:r  i{ . 

"We  can  only  give  it  in  our  way,  anclfcnly  such  parts  as 
we  can  remember,  leaving  out  most  of  the  episodes,  the  cas- 
ual explanations  and  the  slang  ;  which  is  almost  the  play  of 
Hamlet  with  the  Prince  of  Denmark  omitted.  But,  thus 
emasculated,  and  Cave's  gas  let  off,  here  goes  a  repbrt  about 
as  faithful  as  a  Congressman's  report  of  his  spokei^oquence 

when  nobody  was  listening  in  the  House. 

#  #  *         #         #  *  *    -     %         # 

^'  Well,  Judge,  the  thing  happened  in  1834,  in  Steuben- 
ville,  Kentucky,  where  I  was  raised.  I  and  Ben  Hardin 
were  prosecuting  the  great  suit,  which  probably  you  have 
heard  of,  Susan  Beeler  vs.  Samuel  Whistler^  for  breach  of 
promise  of  marriage.  The  trial  came  on,  and  the  court-house 
was  crowded.  Every  body  turned  out,  men,  women,  and 
children  ;  for  it  was  understood  I  was  to  close  the  argument 
in  reply  to  Tom  Marshall  and  Bob  Wickliffe.     I  had  been 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  163 

speaking  about  three  hours  and .  a  half,  and  had  just  got  to 
my  full  speed — the  genius  licks  were  falling  pretty  heavy. 
It  was  an  aggravated  case.  Susan,  her  mother  and  three 
sisters  were  crying  like  babies  ;  her  old  father,  the  preacher, 
was  taking  on  too,  pretty  solemn  ;  and  the  women  generally 
were  going  it  pretty  strong  on  the  briny  line.  The  court-house 
was  as  solemn  as  a  camp-meeting  when  they  are  calling  up  the 
mourners.  I  had  been  giving  them  a  rousing,  soul-searching 
appeal  on  the  moral  question,  and  had  been  stirring  up  their 
consciences  with  a  long  pole.  I  had  touched  them  a  little 
on  the  feelings  — '  affections  ' — '  broken-hearts  ' — Opining 
away  ' — '  patience  on  a  monument,'  and  so  forth ;  but  I  hadn't 
probed  them  deep  on^hese  tender  points.  It  isn't  the  right  way 
to  throw  them  into  spasms  of  emotion  :  reaction  is  apt  to  come. 
Ben  Hardin  cautioned  me  against  this.  Says  Ben,  ^  Cave, 
tap  them  gently  and  milk  them  of  their  brine  easy.  Let  the 
pathetics  sink  into  'em  like  a  spring  shower.'  I  saw  the 
sense  of  i|»nd  took  the  hint.  I  led  them  gently  along,  not 
drawing  more  than  a  tear  a  minute  or  so  :  and  when  I  saw 
their  mouths  opening  with  mine,  as  I  went  on,  and  their  eyes 
following  mine,  and  winking  as  I  winked,  I  would  put  it  down 
a  little  stronger  by  way  of  a  clincher.  [Hello,  Dick,  ain't 
they  nearly  all  opened  ?  I  believe  I  would  take  a  few  raw 
by  way  of  relish."] 

"  No,"  Dick  said :  "  they  would  be  ready  after  a  while." 
Here  Cave  took  another  drink  of  the  punch  and  proceeded. 

"I  say — old  Van  Tromp  Ramkat  was  Judge.  You 
knew  old  Eamkat,  Judge — didn't  you  ?     No  ?     Well,  you 


1G4  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ought  to  have  known  him.  He  was  the  bloodiest  tyrant 
alive.  I  reckon  the  old  cuss  has  fined  me  not  less  than 
$500." 

Sawbridge,—''  What  for,  Cave?  " 

^*  Why,  for  contempt  at  ten  dollars  a  clip — that  was  old 
Ramkat'g  tariff;  and  if  every  other  man  had  been  fined  the 
same  for  contemiJt  of  Van  Tromp,  the  fines  would  pay  off 
the  national  debt.  Old  Ram  had  a  crazy  fit  for  fining  per- 
sons. He  thought  he  owed  it  to  the  people  to  pay  off  all 
the  expenses  of  the  judicial  system  by  fines.  He  was  at  it 
all  the  time.  His  fines  against  the  sheriff  and  clerk  amount- 
ed to  not  less  than  ten  per  cent,  on  their  salaries.  If  a  court 
passed  without  fining  somebody  for  contempt,  he  thought  it 
was  a  failure  of  court,  and  he  called  a  special  term.  Every 
thing  was  a  contempt :  a  lawyer  couldn't  go  out  of  court 
without  asking  leave ;  and  the  lawyers  proposed,  at  a  bar- 
meeting,  to  get  a  shingle  and  write  on  one  side  of  it  "  In," 
and  on  the  other  "  Out,"  like  an  old-field  school.^ He  fined 
Tid  Stiffness  for  refusing  to  testify  in  a  gambling  case  $10  ; 
and  then  asked  him  again  in  the  politest  and  most  obsequious 
tones — if  he  hadn't  better  testify  ?  Tid,  thinking  it  a  mat- 
ter of  choice,  said  '-  No.'  Old  Ram  nodded  to  the  elerk,  who 
set  Tid  down  for  another  five.  Ram  got  still  more  polite, 
and  suggested  the  question  again — and  kept  on  till  he  hid 
him  up  to  $250  ;  and  then  told  him  what  he  had  done,  and 
then  adjourned  the  case  over,  with  Tid  in  custody,  till  next 
morning.  Tid  came  into  measures  when  the  ease  was  called, 
and  agreed  to  testify,  and  wanted  old  Yan  to  let  him  off 


CAVE    BUPwTON,    ESQ.,    OF    KENTUCKY.  165 

with  the  fines  ;  but  Earn  wouldn't  hear  to  it.  The  clerk; 
however,  suggested  that,  on  looking  over  the  tallies,  he  found 
he  had  scored  him  down  twice  on  one  bid.  Ram  remarked 
that^  as  there  seemed  to  be  some  question  about  it,  and  as 
Tid  had  been  a  good  customer,  he  would  split  the  difference 
with  him  and  deduct  a  Y  ;  and  then,  in  order  to  make  the 
change  even,  he  fined  old  Taxcross,  the  clerk,  five  dollars  for 
not  making  up  the  entry  right ;  but  to  let  it  come  light  on  him, 
as  he  had  a  large  family,  allowed  him  to  make  it  off  of  Tid 
by  making  separate  entries  of  the  fines — thus  swelling  his 
fees. 

"  Oh,  I  tell  you,  old  Ramkat  was  the  bloodiest  tyrant 
this  side  of  France.  I  reckon  that  old  cuss  has  cheated  my 
clients  out  of  half  a  million  of  dollars,  by  arbitrarily  and  offi- 
ciously interfering  to  tell  the  juries  the  law,  when  I  had  got 
them  all  with  me  on  the  facts.  There  was  no  doing  any  thing 
with  him.  .  He  would  lay  the  law  down  so  positive,  that  he 
could  instruct  a  jury  out  of  a  stock, — a  little,  bald-headed, 
high-heel-booted,  hen-pecked  son  of  thunder  !  Fining  and 
sending  to  the  penitentiary  were  the  chief  delights  of  his  in- 
significant life.  Did  not  the  little  villain  once  say,  in  open 
court,  that  the  finding  of  a  bill  of  indictment  was  a  half  con- 
viction, and  it  ought  to  be  law  that  the  defendant  ought  to 
be  convicted  if  he  couldnt  get  a  unanimous  verdict  from  the 
petty  jury?  Why,  Judge,  he  convicted  a  client  of  mine  for 
stealing  a  calf  I  proved  that  the  fellow  was  poor  and  had 
nothing  to  eat,  and  stole  it  in  self  defence  of  his  life. 
'Twouldn't  do:  he  convicted  him,  or  made  the  jury  do  it. 


166  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

And  old  Ram  told  the  fellow  he  should  sentence  him  for 
five  years.  I  plead  with  him  to  reduce  the  time.  The  boy's 
father  was  in  court,  and  was  weeping  :  I  wept : — even  old 
Ramkat  boohoo'd  outright.  I  thought  I  had  him  this  time  ; 
but  what  did  he  do  ?  Says  he,  *  Young  man,  your  vile  con- 
duct has  done  so  much  wrong,  -given  ^^our  worthy  father  so 
much  pain,  and  given  your  eloquent  counsel  so  much  pain, 
and  this  court  so  much  pain — I  really  must  enlarge  your 
time  to  TEN  years.'  And  for  stealing  a  calf!  Egad,  if  i 
w^as  starving,  Id  steal  a  calf — yes,  if  I  had  been  in  Noah's 
ark  and  the  critter  was  the  seed  calf  of  the  world  !  [I  say, 
where  is  Dick  Bowling  ?  Them  oysters  certainly  must  be 
ready  by  this  time; — it  seems  to  me  I've  smelt  them  for  the 
last  half  hour."] 

"  No,"  the  judge  told  him  ;  ^'  the  oysters  were  not  ready — 
they  were  stewing  a  big  tureen  full  at  once." 

Cave  called  for  crackers  and  butter,  and,  through  the 
course  of  the  evening,  just  in  a  coquetting  way,  disposed  of 
about  half  a  tray  full  of  dough,  and  half  a  pound  of  Goshen 
butter. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  during  the  progress  of 
this  oration,  though  at  different  times,  the  members  with- 
drew to  the  back  room  and  '  oystered.' 

''  Well,  but,"  said  Tom  Cottle—'^  about  the  earthquake  ?" 

"  Yes — true — exactly — just  so — my  mind  is  so  disturbed 
by  the  idea  that  those  oysters  will  be  stewed  out  of  all  flavor, 
that  1  ramble.  Where  was  I  ?  Yes,  I  recollect  now.  I 
was  commenting  on  Tom  Marshall's  attack  on  Molly  Mug- 


CAVE    BUlvxON,    ESQ.,    OF    KENTUCKY.  167 

gin's  testimony.  Moll  was  our  main  witness.  She  was  an 
Irish  servant  girl,  and  had  peeped  through  the  key-hole  of 
the  parlor  door,  and  seen  the  breach  of  promise  going  on 
upon  the  sofa.  Well,  I  was  speaking  of  Ireland,  Emmet, 
Curran  and  so  on,  and  I  had  my  arm  stretched  out,  and  the 
jury  were  agape — old  Ramkat  leaning  over  the  bench — and 
the  crowd  as  still  as  death.  When,  what  should  happen  ? 
Such  a  clatter  and  noise  above  stairs,  as  if  the  whole  build- 
ing were  tumbling  down.  It  seems  that  a  jury  was  hung, 
up  stairs,  in  the  second  story — six  and  six — a  dead  lock,  on 
a  case  of  Jim  Snipes  ^5.  Jerry  Legg  for  a  bull  yearling  ; 
all  Nubbin  Fork  was  in  excitement  about  it ; — forty  wit- 
nesses on  a  side,  not  including  impeaching  and  sustaining 
witnesses.  The  sheriff  had  just  summoned  the  witnesses 
from  the  muster-roll  at  random  ;  fourteen  swore  one  way, 
and  twenty-four  the  other,  as  to  identity  and  ownership  ;  and 
it  turned  out  the  calf  belonged  to  neither  ;  there  was  more 
perjury  than  would  pale  the  lower  regions  to  white  heat  to 
hear  it.     One  witness  swore" — 

Sawhridge. — ''  But,  Cave,  about  the  case  you  were 
trying." 

Cave. — '^  Yes — about  that.  Well,  the  jury  wanted  to 
hear  my  speech,  and  the  sheriff  wouldn't  let  them  out.  He 
locked  the  door  and  came  down.  One  of  them,  Sim  Coley, 
kicked  at  the  door  so  hard  that  the  jar  broke  the  stove-pipe 
off  from  the  wires  in  the  Mason's  Lodge-room  above,  and 
about  forty  yards  of  stove-pipe^  about  as  thick  round  as  a 
barrel,  came  lumbering  over  the  banisters,  and  fell,  with  a 


168  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

crash  like  thundei-j  in  tlie  grand  jury-room  below,  and  then 
came  rolling  down  stairs,  four  steps  at  a  leap,  bouncing  like 
a  rock  from  a  mountain  side." 

Here  Sam  Watson  inquired  how  such  a  long  pipe  could 
get  down  a  "  pair  of  stairs,"  and  how  much  broader  a  stair- 
case of  a  Kentucky  court-house  was  than  a  turnpike  road. 

Cave. — "  Of  course,  I  meant  that  it  onjointed,  and  one 
or  more  of  the  joints  rolled  down.  A  loose,  gangling  fellow 
like  you,  Sam,  ought  to  see  no  great  difficulty  in  any  thing 
being  onjointed.     I  could  just  unscrew  you" — 

"  Order !  Order  !"   interposed  Judge   Sawbridge.     '^  No 
interruption  of  the  speaker  ;   Mr.  Burton  has  the  floor." 

''  Well,"  continued  Cave,  ''  I  had  prepared  the  minds  of 
the  audience  for  a  catastrophe,  and  this,  coming  as  it  did, 
had  a  fearful  effect  ;  but  the  hung  jury  coming  down  stairs 
on  the  other  side  of  the  building  from  the  lodge,  and  by 
the  opposite  stairway,  hearing  the  noise,  started  to  running 
down  like  so  many  wild  buffalo.  A  general  hubbub  arose 
below — old  Ramkat  rose  in  his  place,  with  a  smile  at  the 
prospect  of  so  much  good  fining.  ^  Sheriff,'  said  he,  ^  bring 
before  me  the  authors  of  that  confusion.'  Just  then  the 
plaster  of  the  ceiling  of  the  court  room  began  to  fall,  and 
the  women  raised  a  shriek.  Old  Ramkat  bellowed  up — 
*  Sheriff,  consider  the  whole  audience  fined  ten  dollars  a 
piece,  and  mind  and  collect  the  fees  at  the  door  before  they 
depart.  Clerk,  consider  the  whole  court  house  fined — wo- 
men and  children  half  price — and  take  down  their  names. 
Sheriff,  see  to  the  doors  being  closed.'     But  just  then  ano- 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.         .169 

ther  section  of  the  stoye-pipe  came  thundering  down,  and 
about  the  eighth  of  an  acre  of  plastering  fell,  knocking  down 
sixty  or  seventy  men  and  women  ;  and  the  people  in  the 
galleries  came  rushing  down,  some  jumping  over  into  the 
crowd  below  ;  and  a  sheet  of  plastering,  about  as  large  as  a 
tray,  came  down  from  above  the  chandelier,  and  struck  old 
Hamkat  over  the  head,  and  knocked  him  out  of  the  judge's 
stand  into  the  clerk's  box  ;  and  he  struck  old  Taxcross  on 
the  shoulders,  and  turned  over  about  a  gallon  of  ink  on  the 
records.  Then  Pug  Williams,  the  bailiff,  shouted  out, 
^  Earthquake  I — Earthquake  V  and  all  the  women  went 
into  hysterics  ;  and  Pug,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  caught 
the  bell-rope,  and  began  furiously  to  ring  the  bell.  Such 
shouts  of  '  murder  !  fire  !  fire  !'  you  never  heard.  There 
was  a  rush  to  the  doors,  but  the  day  being  cold  they  were 
closed,  and  of  course  on  the  inside,  and  the  crowd  pressed 
in  such  a  mass  and  mess  against  them,  that,  I  suppose,  there 
was  a  hundred  tons'  pressure  on  them,  and  they  could  not  be 
got  open.  I  wa§  standing  before  the  jury,  and  just  behind 
them  was  a  window,  but  it  was  down :  I  leaped  over  the 
jury,  carried  them  before  me" — 

Watson. — ^'  The  first  time  you  ever  carried  them, 
Cave." 

Cave. — ''  Not  by  a  jug  full.  I  bowed  my  neck  and 
jumped  leap-frog  through  the  window,  carried  the  sash  out 
on  my  neck,  and  landed  safe  in  the  yard,  cutting  a  jugular 
vein  or  two  half  through,  and  picked  myself  up  and  ran,  with 
the  sash  on  my  neck,  up  street,  bleeding  like  a  butcher,  and 


1  7Q  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

shouting  murder  at  every  jump.  I  verily  thought  I  never 
should  see  supper  time. 

"  In  the  mean  time  the  very  devil  was  to  pay  in  the  court- 
house. Old  Ramkatj  half  stunned,  ran  up  the  steps  to  the 
judge's  platform,  near  "which  was  a  window,  hoisted  it  and 
jumped,  like  a  flying  mullet,  over  on  to  the  green,  thirty  feet 
below,  sprained  his  ankle  and  fell.  Frank  Duer,  once  the 
most  eloquent  man  at  the  bar,  but  who  had  fattened  himself 
out  of  his  eloquence — weighing  three  hundred  and  ninety, 
and  so  fat  that  he  could  only  wheeze  out  his  figures  of 
speech,  and  broke  down  from  exhaustion  of  wind  in  fifteen 
minutes — followed  suit,  just  squeezing  himself  through  the 
same  window,  muttering  a  prayer  for  his  soul  that  was  just 
about  leaving  such  comfortable  lodgings,  came  thundering 
down  on  the  ground,  jarring  it  like  a  real  earthquake,  and 
bounced  a  foot,  and  fell  senseless  on  Kamkat.  Ramkat, 
feeling  the  jar,  and  mashed  under  Frank,  thought  the  earth- 
quake had  shook  down  the  gable  end  of  the  court-house  and 
it  had  fell  on  him.  So  he  thought  fining  time  was  over 
with  him.  He  hollered  out  in  a  smothered  cry,  ^  Excavate 
the  Court  ! — Excavate  the  Court !'  But  nobody  would 
do  it,  but  let  him  sweat  and  smother  for  four  hours. 

"  Then  Luke  Casey,  a  little,  short,  bilious,  collecting 
attorney,  as  pert  and  active  as  if  he  was  made  out  of 
watch-springs  and  gum-elastic,  and  who  always  carried  a 
green  bag  with  old  newspapers  and  brickbats  in  it,  and 
combed  his  hair  over  his  face  to  look  savage,  so  as  to  get  up 
a  reputation  for  being  a  good  hand  at  dirty  work — Luke 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  171 

was  ciphering  the  interest  on  a  little  grocery  account  of 
fifteen  dollars  ;  he  had  appealed  from  a  justice's  court,  and 
had  a  big  deposition,  taken  in  the  case,  all  the  way  from 
New- York,  in  his  hand  ;  he  sprung  over  three  benches  of 
the  bar  at  a  leap,  and  grabbed  his  hand  onGrirard  Moseley^s 
head  to  make  another  leap  towards  a  window — going  as  if 
there  was  a  prospect  of  a  fee  ahead,  and  the  client  was 
about  leaving  town.  He  leaped  clear  over,  but  carried  Gi- 
raid's  wig  with  him.  Now  Girard  was  a  widower,  in  a 
remarkable  state  of  preservation,  and  of  fine  constitution, 
having  survived  three  aggravated  attacks  of  matrimony.  He 
pretended  to  practise  law  ;  but  his  real  business  was  marry- 
ing for  money.  He  had  got  well  ofi"  at  it,  though  he  never 
got  more  than  four  thousand  dollars  .with  any  one  wife.  He 
did  business  on  the  principle  of  ^  quick  returns  and  short 
profits.'  He  pretended  to  be  thirty  and  tha  rise,  but  was, 
at  the  least,  fifty.  He  prided  himself  on  his  hair,  a  rich,  light 
sorrel,  sleek  and  glossy,  and  greased  over  with  peppermintj  cin- 
namon, and  all.  sorts  of  sweet  smells.  He  smelt  like  a  barber's 
shop ;  and  such  a  polite,  nice,  easy  fellow,  to  be  sure,  was 
Girard.  Butter  wouldn't  melt  in  his  mouth,  and  yet  let  him 
get  hold  of  a  dime,  and  he  griped  it  so  hard  you  might  hear 
the  eagle  squall.  He  only  courted  rich  old  maids  in  infirm 
health,  and  was  too  stingy  ever  to  raise  a  family.  He  was 
very  sweet  on  old  Miss  Julia  Pritcher,  2.  girl  of  about  thirty- 
five,  who  was  lank,  hysterical,  and,  the  boys  said,  fitified  ; 
and  who  had  just  got  about  five  thousand  dollars  from  her 
aunt,  whom  she  had  served  about  fifteen  years  as  upper  ser 


172  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

vant,  but  who  was  now  gone  the  old  road.  Nobody  ever 
thought  of  Girard's  wearing  a  wig.  He  pretended  it  was 
Jayjie^s  Hair  Elixir  that  brought  it  out.  Fudge  !  But 
Luke  caught  him  by  the  top-knot,  and  peeled  his  head  like 
a  white  onton.  He  left  him  as  bald  as  a  billiard-ball — not 
a  hair  between  his  scalp  and  heaven.  Luke  took  the  wig, 
and  hastily,  without  thinking  what  he  was  doing,  filed  it  in 
the  deposition.  Mosely  had  brought  Jule  Pritcher  there, 
and  she  was  painted  up  like  a  doll  :  her  withered  old  face 
streaked  like  a  June  apple.  She  needn't  have  put  herself  to 
that  trouble  for  Girard ;  he  would  have  married  her  in  her 
winding-sheet,  if  she  had  been  as  ugly  as.  original  sin,  and 
only  had  enough  breath  in  her  to  say  yes  to  the  preacher. 

'^  And  now  the  fury  began  to  grow  outside.  The  smoke, 
rushing  out  of  the  window  of  the  lodge-room,  and  the  cry 
of  fire  brought  out  the  fire-engines  and  companies,  and  the 
rag,  tag  and  bob-tail  boys  and  negroes  that  follow  on  shout- 
ing, with  great  glee,  ^  fire  !  fire  !  fire  ! '  along  the  streets. 
Ting-a-ling  came  on  the  engines — there  were  two  of  them — 
until  they  brought  up  in  the  court-house  yard ;  one  of  them 
in  front,  the  other  at  the  side  or  gable  end.  It  was  some 
time  before  the  hose  could  be  fixed  right ;  every  fellow  act- 
ing as  captain,  and  all  being  in  the  way  of  the  rest.  Wood 
Chuck,  a  tanner's  journeyman — a  long,  slim,  yellow-breeched 
fellow,  undertook  to  act  as  engineer  of  engine  No.  1. 
^  Play  in  at  the  windows  !  '  cried  the  crowd  outside,  *  there's 
fire  there ' — and  play  it  was.  They  worked  the  arms  of  the 
thing  lustily — no  two  pulling  or  letting  down  at  the  same 


CAVE  BURTON,  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  173 

time,  until  at  last,  the  water  came.  Wood  guided  pretty 
well  for  a  first  trial,  first  slinging  the  pipe  around  and  scat- 
tering the  crowd.  But,  just  as  they  came  pouring  out  of 
the  window,  thick  as  bees,  he  got  his  aim,  and  he  sent  the 
water  in  a  sluice  into  the  window;  the  engine  had  a  squirt 
like  all  blazes ;  and  as  Chuck  levelled  the  pipe  and  drew  a 
bead  on  them,  and  as  it  shot  into  the  faces  of  the  crowd — • 
vip,  vip,  vip — they  fell  back  shouting  murder,  as  if  they  had 
been  shot  from  the  window-sill.  Old  Grirard  had  got  hold 
of  Jule  and  brought  her  to,  and  was  bringing  her,  she  cling- 
ing with  great  maidenly  timidity  to  him,  and  he  hugging  her 
pretty  tight,  and  they,  coming  to  the  window — the  rest  fall- 
ing back — Chuck  had  a  fair  fire  at  them.  He  played  on  old 
Grirard  to  some  purpose — his  bald  head  was  a  fair  mark,  and 
the  water  splashed  and  scattered  from  it  like  the  foam  on  a 
figure  head.  The  old  fellow's  ears  rang  like  a  conch  shell  for 
two  years  afterwards.  Chuck  gave  Jule  one  swipe  on  one 
side  of  her  head  that  drove  a  bunch  of  curls  through  the 
window  opposite,  and  which  washed  all  the  complexion  off 
that  cheek,  and  the  paint  ran  down  the  gullies  and  seams 
like  blood ;  the  other  side  was  still  rosy.  The  only  safe 
place  was  to  get  down  on  the  floor  and  let  the  water  fly  over. 
Old  Girard  never  got  over  the  tic-doloreux  and  rheumatism 
he  got  that  day.  The  other  engine  played  in  the  other 
window ;  and  the  more  they  played,  the  more  the  people  in- 
side shouted  and  hollered ;  and  the  more  they  did  that,  the 
more  Chuck  and  Bill  Jones,  the  engineer  of  No.  2,  came 
to  their  relief.     It  was  estimated  that  at  least  a  thousand 


174  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

hogsheads  of  Tvater  were  played  into  that  court-house :  in- 
deed, I  believe  several  small  boys  were  drowned. 

''  Soroe  one  shouted  out  for  an  axe  to  cut  through  the 
front  door.  One  was  brought.  A  big  buck  negro  struck 
with  all  his  might,  with  the  back  of  the  axe,  to  knock  it  off 
its  hinges ;  but  there  were  at  least  twenty  heads  pushed  up 
against  the  door,  and  these  were  knocked  as  dead  by  the 
blow  as  ever  you  saw  a  fish  under  the  ice." 

Sawhridge. — "  "Were  they  all  killed  ?  '' 

Cave, — "  All  ?  No — not  all.  Most  of  them  came  to, 
after  a  while.  Indeed,  I  believe  there  was  only  three  that 
were  buried — and  a  tinner's  boy,  Tom  Tyson,  had  his  skull 
fractured ;  but  they  put  silver  plate  in  the  cracks,  and  he 
got  over  it — a  few  brains  spilt  out,  or  something  of  the  sort 
— but  his  appetite  was  restored. 

"  By  the  way,  we  had  some  fun  when  the  trial  of  Luke 
Casey's  little  case  came  on.  Moseley  was  on  the  other  side, 
and  came  into  court  with  his  head  tied  up  in  a  bandanna 
handkerchief.  He  smiled  when  some  of  Luke's  proof  was 
offered,  and  Luke,  a  little  nettled,  drew  out  the  deposition, 
and  with  an  air  of  triumph  said.  ^  Perhaps,  Mr.  Moseley, 
you  will  laugh  at  this,'  opening  the  deposition  •  as  he  opened 
it  the  wig  fell  out,  and,  every  body  recognizing  it  as  Mose- 
ley's,  a  laugh  arose  which  was  only  stopped  by  old  Kamkat's 
fining  all  around  the  table.  Squire  Moseley  vamosed  and 
left  Luke  to  get  a  judgment,  and  the  credit  of  a  joke,  of 
which  he  was  innocent  as  Girard's  head  was  of  the  hair. 


CAVE  BURTONj  ESQ.,  OF  KENTUCKY.  175 

"  Well  t)oys,  I  reckon  you  would  all  like  to  know  what 
became  of  my  case.     You  see  " — 

Here  Dick  Bowling,  smacking  his  lips,  remarked  that 
the  oysters  were  very  fine. 

"Oysters!"  said  Cave.  "Have  you  been  eating  the 
oysters  ?  " 

Dick  said  he  had. 

Cave  jumped  to  the  back  door  at  one  bound,  and  called 
to  the  servant — -^  Jo,  I  say,  Jo — get  mine  ready  this  minute 
— a  few  dozen  raw — a  half  bushel  roasted,  and  all  the  bal- 
ance stewed — with  plenty  of  soup  ;  I'll  season  them  myself; 
and  put  on  plenty  of  crackers,  butter  and  pickles.  Be 
quick,  Jo,  old  fel." 

Jo  made  his  appearance,  hat  in  hand,  and  answered : 
"  Why,  Mas  Cave,  dey's  all  gone  dis  hour  past ;  de  gem'men 
eat  ebery  one  up." 

"  The  devil  they  have  !  "  said  Cave.  "  Gentlemen,"  he 
continued,  turning  to  the  crowd,  "  is  this  true  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Judge.  "  Cave,  I  thought  you  were 
so  interested  telling  the  story,  that  you  would  prefer  not  to 
be  interrupted." 

The  exclamator}^  imprecations  which  Cave  lavished  upon 
his  soul,  his  eyes,  and  the  particular  persons  present,  and 
humanity  generally,  would  not  be  befitting  these  chaste 
pages.  He  left  without  any  valedictory  salutations  of  a 
complimentary  or  courteous  tenor.  And  he  did  not  recover 
his  composure  until  he  removed  a  tray  full  of  blood-puddings, 


176         -SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

sweetbread,  kidneys  and  the  like  soporific  viands,  which  hud 
once  graced  the  landlord's  larder. 

Speaking  of  the  entertainment  afterwards.  Cave  said  he 
did  not  care  a  dern  for  the  oysters,  but  it  pained  him  to 
think  that  men  he  took  to  be  his  friends,  should  have  done 
him  a  secret  injury. 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  177 


JUSTIFICATION  AFTER  VERDICT. 

The  Fall. assizes  of  the  year  184 — ,  came  on  in  the  East 
Eiding,  and  my  friend,  Paul  Beechim,  found  himself  duly 
indicted  before  Judge  C,  for  an  assault  and  battery  commit- 
ted on  the  body  of  one  Phillip  Cousins,  in  the  peace  of  the 
State  then  and  there  being.  I  felt  more  than  ordinary  in- 
terest in  the  case ;  the  aforesaid  Paul  being  a  particular 
friend  of  mine,  and,  moreover,  the  case  presenting  some  sin- 
gular and  mysterious  features.  The  defendant  was  one  of  the 
best-natured  and  most  peaceable  citizens  of  the  county,  and, 
until  recently,  before  this  ex  'parte  fighting,  had  been  on 
terms  of  intimacy  and  friendship  with  the  gentleman  upon 
whom  the  assault  was  made.  The  assault  was  of  a  ferocious 
character ;  no  one  knew  the  cause  of  it ;  though  every  one 
knew,  from  the  character  of  Beechim,  that  some  extraordina- 
ry provocation  had  been  given  him  :  it  was  impossible  to  guess 
what  it  was.  I  was  no  better  informed  than  the  rest.  When 
Beechim  came  to  employ  me  in  the  case,  I  tried  to  possess 
myself  of  the  facts.  To  all  inquiries  he  only  replied,  that  he 
had  acted  as  h.e  had  done  for  good  and  sufficient  reasons — - 


178  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

but  that  he  did  not  choose  to  say  more.  I  told  him  that  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  defend  him  unless  he  would  place 
me  in  possession  of  the  facts,  and  assured  him  that  whatever 
he  communicated  should  be  held  in  strict  professional  and 
personal  confidence.  But  nothing  I  could  say  produced  any 
change  in  his  determination.  I  was  about  abandoning  his 
case,  remarking  to  him  that  if  he  felt  no  confidence  in  his 
counsel,  or  not  enough  to  induce  him  to  tell  him  the  facts,  he 
might  be  assured  that  it  was  no  less  his  interest  than  my 
wish,  that  he  should  go  where  he  would  be  better  suited. 
But  he  persisted  that  it  was  from  no  want  of  confidence  in 
me  that  he  refused,  and  that  he  regarded  me  with  the  same 
feelings  of  friendship  he  had  always  felt  for  me,  and  conclud- 
ed by  telling  me  that  if  I  refused  to  take  his  case  he  should 
employ  no  other  lawyer,  but  would  let  the  matter  proceed 
without  defence.  I  told  him  I  did  not  see  any  hope  of  his 
escaping  severe  punishment  as  the  case  stood ;  to  which  he 
replied  that  he  expected  it,  but  that  he  hoped  I  would,  if  it 
were  possible,  prevent  his  being  sent  to  jail.  The  case  came 
up  in  the  regular  course  of  things  and  was  tried.  The  facts 
were  brought  out  plainly  enough.  The  assault  was  made  in 
public,  on  the  square ;  the  weapon  a  large  cane,  with  which 
the  defendant  had  given  Cousins  an  awful  beating,  gashing 
his  head  and  causing  the  blood  to  flow  very  freely  over  his 
clothes.  The  only  words  said  by  Beechim  in  the  course  of 
the  afi'air  were,  *'  How,  d — n  you,  how  do  you  like  that  pine- 
apple sop  ?  "  spoken  just  as  he  was  leaving  the  prostrate 
Cousins.     Of  course  on  such  testimony,  the  jury  found  the 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  179 

defendant  guilty  :  and  the  court  retained  Beechim  in  custody 
until  some  leisure  was  given  it  to  fix  the  punishment,  which, 
by  the  statute,  the  court  was  bound  to  impose. 

Judge  C.  was  something  of  a  martinet  in  his  line.  He 
was  a  pretty  good  disciplinarian  and  kept  the  police  business 
of  the  court  in  good  order.  There  had  been  of  late  many 
violations  of  the  law  and  a  growing  disposition  was  felt  by 
the  people  and  the  courts  to  put  down  these  excesses ;  but 
Beechim  was  so  popular,  and  withal,  so  kind-hearted  and 
gentlemanly  a  fellow,  that  a  great  deal  of  sympathy  was  felt 
for  him,  and  a  general  wish  that  he  might  in  some  way  get 
out  of  the  scrape. 

Among  the  peculiarities  of  Judge  C.  was  an  itching  cu- 
riosity. He  was  always  peeping  under  the  curtain  of  a  case 
to  see  if  he  could  not  find  something  behind  ;  and  felt  not  a 
little  disappointed  and  vexed  when  the  examination  stopped 
short  of  bringing  out  all  the  facts  and  incidents,  the  relations 
of  the  parties  and  the  like. 

He  had  been  struck  with  the  expression  used  by  Beech- 
im— '*  pine-apple  sop,"  and  was  evidently  uneasy  in  mind 
in  his  present  state  of  inability  to  unravel  it.  The  first 
pause  in  the  cause  he  was  next  trying  gave  him  an  opportu- 
nity of  calling  me  to  him  :  I  came  of  course  :  Said  he,  "  B — 
what  did  that  fellow  mean  by  '  pine-apple  sop  ?  '  "  I  told 
him  there  was  a  mystery  about  it  which  I  could  not  explain. 
*'  A  mystery,  ha  !  Well,  now,  here,  B — ,  in  confidence — ^just 
tell  me ;  it  shan't  go  any  farther — of  course,  you  know — ^just 
give  me  an  item  of  it."    I  told  him  I  really  was  ignorant  of 


180  SKETCHES    OF    THE   FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

it — as  was  every  one  else ;  but  I  felt  sure  that  it  was  some 
thing  that  would  place  my  client's  conduct  in  a  better  light, 
though  he  obstinately  refused  to  tell  it  to  me.  The  judge 
then  assured  me  I  had  better  see  my  client,  and  get  him 
to  state  it- to  the  court;  that  he  would  give  all  proper  weight 
to  it  in  fixing  the  punishment,  but  that  as  the  case  stood,  he 
should  have  to  make  an  example  of  him.  I  took  iPaul  aside 
and  told  him  what  the  judge  had  said,  and  added  my  own 
counsel  to  his  Honor's,  but  with  no  effect.  He  still  mildly  but 
resolutely  refused  to  make  any  explanation.  I  felt  a  good 
deal  vexed  at  this,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  most  unreasonable 
conduct.  Revolving  the  thing  in  my  mind,  I  got  more  and 
more  bothered  the  more  I  thought  about  it.  I  began  to  look  at 
the  circumstances  more  narrowly  ;  that  it  was  no  sham  or 
trick  was  very  evident ;  no  man  would  have  taken  such  a 
beating  for  fun  :  that  the  provocation  did  not  touch  any  do 
mestic  relations  which  the  defendant  might  have  desired  to 
keep  from  being  exposed,  was  apparent  from  the  fact  that 
my  client  had  no  relatives  in  the  country,  and  the  only  girl 
he  ever  went  to  see  was  Cousins's  sister.  There  were  two 
facts  I  made  sure  of :  the  first  that  this  meeting  was  imme- 
diately after  Cousins's  return  from  New  Orleans,  which  oc- 
curred a  few  days  after  Beechim  himself  had  arrived  from 
that  city  ;  the  second,  that  Cousins  had  kept  out  of  the  way 
and  had  received  a  note  shortly  before  court  from  Beechim. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  the  quarrel  originated  in  some-  • 
thing  that  had  occurred  between  the  parties  in  New  Orleans. 
I  happened  to  know,  too,  that  Samuel  Roberts,  Esq.,  one  of 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  181 

the  'cutest  chap§  we  had  about  town,  and  '  up  to  trap  '  in 
whatever  was  stirring  wherever  he  happened  to  be,  was  in 
New  Orleans  at  the  time  these  young  gentlemen  were  there  ; 
and  I  determined  to  get  the  facts  out  of  him  if  I  could. 
Shortly  after  breakfast,  on  the  next  day  after  the  verdict, — 
the  judgment  still  delayed,  partly  by  my  request  and  partly 
by  the  judge's  curiosity  being  yet  unappeased — I  sallied  out 
with  a  package  in  my  hand  as  if  going  to  the  post  office. 
Sam  was  on  the  street.  I  knew  if  there  was  any  thing  to  be 
concealed  by  him,  the  only  way  to  get  it  was  by  a  coup  d'' 
etat.  So  half-passing  him,  I  turned  suddenly  on  him,  and 
putting  my  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  looking  him  in  the 
eye,  broke  into  a  laugh,  saying,  ^'  Well,  Sam,  that  quarrel  be- 
tween Beechim  and  Cousins  in  New  Orleans,  and  the — thing 
it  grew  out  of — didn't  it  beat  any  thing  you  ever  heard  of  ? — 
Wasn't  it  the  queerest  affair  that  ever  happened  ?  I  am  de- 
fending Beechim,  and,  would  you  believe  it  ? — he  never  told 
me  up  to  last  night  what  was  the  cause  of  the  fight  ?  Don't 
the  whole  thing  look  curious  ?  "  I  said  this  very  flippantly 
with  a  knowing  air,  as  if  I  knew  all  about  it.  Sam's  eyes 
twinkled  as  he  answered,  ''  Well,  B — ,  isn't  it  the  blamedest 
piece  of  business  yoit  ever  heard  of?  "  ^'  Yes,"  said  I,  "  it 
is  ;  and  we  must  get  Paul  out  of  this  scrape — the  judge  is 
viperish,  and,  if  we  don't  do  something,  six  months  in  jail  is 
the  very  lowest  time  we  can  get  Paul  off  with.  Now,  Sam, 
just  step  here — tell  me  the  particulars  of  the  matter  in  New 
Orleans  as  yoit  understand  them ;  for  you  know  any  discrep- 
ancy between  Paul's  statement  and  yours  might  hurt  things 


182  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

mightily,  and  I  want  to  know  exactly  how  the  case  stands.'' 
^'  No,"  said  Sam,  ''  I  can't  do  it.  I  promised  Paul,  on 
honor,  that  I  wouldn't  mention  it  to  a  soul,  and  I  won't  do  it 
unless  I  am  compelled.  So  you  needn't  ask  me  unless  you 
bring  a  note  from  Paul  relieving  me  from  the  pledge."  I 
saw  he  was  determined,  and  it  was  useless  to  press  the  point. 
I  had  a  vague  idea  that  a  woman  was  mixed  up  in  the 
matter,  and  was  afraid  of  some  exposure  of  that  sort ;  so  I 
let  out  blind  to  find  out :  "  Well,  well,  Sam,  if  you  stand  on 
points  of  honor,  of  course  that  ends  it ; — but  just  explain 
this  thing — how  did  (f/^e^zV/ behave  under  the  circumstances  ? 
you  know  it  was  calculated  to  be  a  little  trying,  and  the 
thing  being  so  sudden  and  the  parties  being  strangers,  too, — 
you  understand  ?  "  and  I  looked  several  volumes,  and  search- 
ed narrowly  for  some  answer.  Sam  merely  replied,  "  Why, 
as  to  the  girl  opposite,  if  you  mean  her,  she  behaved  very 
well.  She  laughed  a  little  at  first,  but  when  Paul  showed 
how  it  hurt  him,  she  seemed  to  feel  for  him,  and  let  the  rest 
take  all  the  laugh."  I  felt  better  satisfied  with  this  expla- 
nation, and  determined  on  my  course. 

The  judge,  in  the  mean  time,  was  on  thorns  of  anxiety. 
He  had  been  conversing  with  the  clerk,  and  sheriff,  and 
State's  attorney,  but  to  no  purpose  ;  they  only  inflamed  his. 
curiosity  the  more  ;  the  mystery  seemed  inscrutable.  He 
came  to  my  room  twice  that  night — but  I  was  out — to  see 
me  on  the  subject.  Early  in  the  morning,  as  I  was  taking  a 
comfortable  snooze,  his  Honor  came  into  my  room,  and  woke 
me  up.     "  Get  up,  B — ,  get  up — why  do  you  sleep  so  late  in 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  183 

the  morning? — it's  a  bad  habit."  (The  judge  was  in  the 
habit  of  sleeping  until  a  late  breakfast.  I  got  up,  and  before 
I  could  get  on  rjy  pantaloons,  he  opened  the  conversation. 
'^  B.,"  said  he,  ''  this  thing  about  young  Beechim  distresses 
me  a  great  deal.  I  feel  really  concerned  about  his  case  ; 
and  if  you  will  tell  me  now  how  that  difficulty  originated, 
I — I — I — shall  feel  better  about  it.  My  mind  would — yes, 
my  mind  would  be  relieved.  Of  course,  B.,  you  know  all 
about  the  matter,  and  I  assure  you  it  will  be  to  the  interest 
of  your  client  to  reveal  the  whole  affair — de-ci-ded-ly  his 
interest.  What  is  it  ?"  I  told  him  I  really  did  not  know, 
and  could  not  find  out  as  yet ;  but  I  thought  I  had  got  the 
clue  to  the  mystery,  and,  if  he  would  aid  me,  it  could  all  be 
brought  to  light  ;  I  was  convinced,  that  if  it  did  come  out, 
it  would  make  decidedly  for  the  benefit  of  Paul,  whom  I 
knew  to  be  incapable  of  making  a  wanton  assault  upon  any 
one,  especially  upon  Cousins.  The  judge  told  me  I  might 
rely  on  him,  and  he  would  see  if  any  one  dared  to  hold  back 
any  thing  which  it  was  proper  to  bring  out.  He  was  so  com- 
municative as  to  assure  me  that,  generally  speaking,  he  was 
a  man  of  but  little  curiosity :  indeed,  he  sometimes  reproached 
himself,  and  his  wife  often  reproached  him,  for  not  knowing 
things  ; — that  is,  he  said,  he  meant  by  "  not  knowing  things" 
— personal  matters,  gossip,  and  so  forth — and  that  he  never 
got  any  thing  but  what  was  played  like  a  trapball  all  over 
town  ;  but,  in  this  case,  as  a  mere  matter  of  speculation,  he 
confessed  he  did  feel  desirous  of  unravelling  the  riddle  ;  in 
fact,  it  preyed  on  his  mind  ;  he  couldn't  rest  last  night  ;  he 


184  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

even  dreamed  of  a  fellow  funnelling  liim  and  pouring  down 
his  throat  a  bottle  of  spirits  of  turpentine,  and  asking  him 
as  he  left  him  gagged,  how  he  liked  ''  tJiat  pine-apple  sop.'^ 
His  Honor  then- went  into  many  ingenious  theories  and  sur- 
mises in  elucidation  of  the  mystery ;  but  I  felt  assured  that 
his  explication  was  more  fanciful  than  true. 

Finding  a  great  indisposition  still,  to  reveal  any  thing, 
on  the  part  of  Beechim,  and  fearing  that,  if  he  were  present, 
he  would  interpose  objections  to  the  presentation  of  the 
proof  as  to  the  provocation,  I  arranged  it  so  that  the  sheriff 
should  detain  Paul  from  the  court-house  until  I  could  get 
the  testimony  in. 

In  order  to  a  more  perfect  understanding  of  the  matter, 
I  had  as  well  state  here,  that  Beechim  was  a  young  gentle- 
man who  had  some  .two  or  three  years  before  '^  located"  in 
the  county,  and  was  doing  a  general  land  agency  and  col- 
lecting business,  surveying  lands,  &c.,  having  before  been 
engaged  as  principal  in  an  academy.  He  had  graduated  at 
the  college  at  Knoxville,  Tennessee,  and  cherished  senti- 
ments of  great  reverence  for  his  venerable  ahna  mater^ 
which  showed  a  very  lively  condition  of  the  moral  sensibili- 
ties. He  thought  very  highly  of  the  respectable  society  of 
that  somewhat  secluded  village,  and  conceived  a  magnified 
idea  of  the  burgh  as  a  most  populous,  wealthy  and  flourish- 
ing metropolis.  I  verily  believe  he  considered  Knoxville  at 
once  the  Athens  and  Paris  of  America,  abounding  in  all  the 
refinements,  and  shining  with  the  polish  of  a  rare  and  exqui- 
site civilization — the  seat  of  learning,  the  home  of  luxury 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  185 

and  the  mart  of  commerce.  Letters,  and  arts,  and  great 
men,  and  refined  modes,  and  cnltivated  manners,  and  women 
of  a  type  that  they  never  before  had  been  moulded  into,  there 
abounded,  in  his  partial  fancy  prodigal  of  such  generous  ap- 
preciation. The  magnificent  self-delusion  of  dear  old  Cap- 
tain Jackson,  immortalized  by  Elia,  scarcely  equalled  the 
hallucination  of  Paul  quoad  the  sights  and  scenes,  the  little 
short  of  celestial  glory  of  and  about  the  citij  of  Knoxville,  as 
he  would  persist  in  calling  that  out-of-the-way,  not-to-be- 
gotten-to,  Sleepy-Hollow  town,  fifty  miles  from  the  Virginia 
line,  and  a  thousand  miles  from  any  where  else.  I  speak 
of  it  in  pre-railroad  times.  Paul  had  been  assiduous  in  the 
cultivation  of  manners.  His  model  was,  of  course,  that  he 
found  at  Knoxville.  He  had  a  great  penchant  for  fashiona- 
ble life,  and  fashionable  life  was  the  life  of  the  coteries,  the 
upper-tens  of  Knoxville.  Rusticity  and  vulgarity  were 
abominations  to  him.  To  go  back  to  Knoxville  and  get  to 
the  tip  of  the  ton  there,  was  the  extreme  top-notch  of  PauPs 
ambition.  Apart  from  this  high-church  Knoxvillism,  Paul 
was  an  excellent  fellow,  somewhat  vain,  sensitive  to  a  fault, 
and  thin-skinned  ;  somewhat  pretentious  as  to  fashion,  style 
and  manners  ;  indeed,  the  girls  had  got  to  regard  him  as  a 
sort  of  village  Beau  Brummell,  "  the  glass  of  fashion  and 
the  mould  of  form" — a  character  on  which  he  plumed  him- 
self not  a  little,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  he  did  not  bear 
his  blushing  honors  as  meekly  as  could  have  been  hoped  for 
under  the  circumstances.  He  had  written  back  to  the 
friends  of  his  youth  (as  Mr.  Macawber  hath  it),  in  Knox- 


186    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

ville,  that  he  was  growing  more  reconciled  to  his  fate ;  hia 
mind  was  calmer,  he  said,  though  his  exile  had,  at  first,  gone 
very  hard  with  him ;  but  the  manners  of  the  natives  were 
evidently,  he  was  pleased  to  think,  under  his  missionary 
labor,  improving,  and  he  must  say  for  these  natives,  that 
they  had  evinced  docility — which  gave  him  hopes  of  further 
civilization. 

That  there  could  be  any  thing  beyond  the  pitch  of  refine- 
ment to  which  Knoxville  had  gone,  Paul  could  not  believe 
on  less  than  ocular  evidence. 

I  got  out  a  subpoena  and  sent  the  sheriff  after  Roberts, 
with  orders  for  immediate  attendance.  The  court  was  in 
session,  and  I  proposed  taking  up  this  matter  of  Beecliim's 
before  the  usual  business  of  the  day  was  gone  into. 

Samuel  came  into  the  court  somewhat  discomposed,  but 
on  observing  that  Beechim  was  not  present,  became  reassur- 
ed. His  Honor  drew  from  his  pouch  a  fresh  quid  of  tobac- 
co, deposited  it  in  his  right  cheek,  wiped  his  mouth  neatly 
with  his  handkerchief,  seated  himself  comfortably  in  his 
chair,  cleared  his  throat,  blew  his  nose,  and  spread  out  his 
countenance  into  a  pleasant  and  encouraging  "  skew,"  and 
directed  me  to  proceed  with  the  witness — commencing  at  the 
beginning  and  telling  the  witness  to  take  his  time. 

Roberts  took  the  stand.  He  testified  to  this  effect :  in- 
deed, this  is  nearly  a  literal  transcript  of  my  notes,  taken  at 
the  time.  ''Witness  knows  the  parties — has  known  them 
for  three  years — is  intimately  acquainted  with  Beechim 
being  a  Tennesseean  and  having  been  at  one  time  at  Knox- 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  187 

yille — knows  tliat  Beechim  and  Cousins  were  on  good  terms  ; 
indeed  quite  friendly  until  May  last.  In  company  with 
witness  they  went  together  to  New  Orleans;  went  byway  of 
Jackson  and  the  Mississippi  river;  arrived  there  the  13th 
of  the  month — conversed  together  a  good  deal — conversation 
of  a  friendly  character — quite  sociable  ;  Beechim  talked  a 
great  deal  of  Knoxville,  the  girls,  fashions  and  society  : 
Cousins  listened  attentively :  knoivs  the  parties  must  have 
been  friendly.  Arrived  in  New  Orleans  on  the  18th,  about 
10  A.  M.,  Monday;  intended  to  remain  until  Thursday;  no 
boat  going  up  until  Tuesday  night.  B.  expressed  himself 
gratified  by  the  zeal  of  the  porters  and  hackmen  to  serve 
him  ;  said,  however,  that  it  marred  the  enjoyment  somewhat 
to  think  that  probably  these  attentions  might  be  mercenary. 
It  was  well  not  to  be  too  credulous.  Took  lodgings  at  the 
St.  Charles  Hotel.  Heard  a  conversation  going  on  between 
the  two — subject,  the  mode :  Cousins  had  been  in  the  city 
and  the  hotel,  frequently,  so  he  said — knew  the  rules  and  the 
etiquette ;  Beechim  had  been  at  the  best  hotels  in  Knoxville, 
knew  their  rules,  but  had  been  from  Knoxville  a  good  while, 
therefore  was  rusty — was  not  certain  but  that  he  might  make 
some  awkward  blunder — might  be  fatal  to  his  character  : 
Cousins  offered  to  act  as  cicerone — said  B.  might  rely  on 
him,  ^  to  put  him  through  ;'  told  him  to  take  an  item  from 
him — Beechim  thanked  him  kindly.  At  three  the  gong 
rang  for  dinner — parties  were  in  the  gentlemen's  sitting  room. 
B.  started — thought  at  first  that  the  steam  engine  that  work- 
ed the  cooking  stove  in  the  kitchen  had  burst  its  boiler.     C. 


188  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA.. 

told  him  it  was  the  gong  :  B.  asked  him  if  it  were  not  a  new 
thing — long  as  he  had  been  in  Knoxville  had  never  heard 
of  such  a  thing — asked  C.  if  he  could  believe  it.  Went  to 
dinner — bill  of  fare  was  handed ;  B.  wished  to  know  if  there 
was  any  lincister  to  translate  the  French  dishes — said  there 
was  in  Knoxville  ;  got  along  pretty  well  until  just  as  B.  had 
taken  a  piece  of  pine-apple  on  his  plate,  the  waiter  came 
along  and  put  a  green-colored  bowl  before  every  guest's  plate 
with  water  and  a  small  slice  of  lemon  in  it.  Beechim  asked 
Cousins  what  that  was.  C.  replied,  '  Sop  for  the  pine-apple.' 
B.  said  he  thought  so.  ''  That's  the  way  it  used  to  be  served 
up  at  '  The  Traveller's  Rest '  in  Knoxville."  Beechim  took 
the  bowl  and  put  it  in  his  plate,  and  then  put  the  pine-apple 
in  the  bowl,  and  commenced  cutting  up  the  apple,  stirred  it 
around  in  the  fluid  with  his  fork,  and  ate  it,  piece  after  piece. 
B.  kept  his  eyes  on  the  bowl — did  not  observe  what  was  pass- 
ing about  him.  Many  persons  at  table — five  hundred  at 
least — ladies,  dandies,  foreigners,  moustached  fellows ;  began 
to  be  an  uproar  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  ;  every  body 
got  to  looking  down  at  Beechim — eye-glasses  put  up — a 
double-barrelled  spy-glass  (as  witness  supposed)  levelled  at 
him  by  a  man  at  the  head  of  the  table,  who  stood  up  to 
draw  a  bead  on  him — loud .  laughing — women  putting  hand- 
kerchiefs, or  napkins,  (witness  is  not  certain  which,)  to 
their  mouths.  B.  got  through  with  the  pine-apple.  Cousins 
had  been  laughing  with  the  rest — composed  himself  now,  and 
asked  B.  "  how  he  liked  the  pine-apple  ?  "  B.  answered  in 
these  words  :  '  I   think   the  pine-apple  very  good,  but  don't 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  189 

you  think  the  sauce  is  rather  insipid  ?  ' — Spoke  the  words 
pretty  loud — heard  at  some  distance — great  sensation — im- 
moderate laughter—  women  screaming — men  calling  for  wine 
— the  French  consul's  clerk  drank  to  the  English  consul's  clerk 
*  Ze  shentleman  from  ze  interiore,  may  he  leeve  to  a  green 
ole  aige,' — drank  with  all  the  honors.  Beechim  seeing  the 
fuss,  turned  to  an  old  man  next  him  and  asked  what  was  the 
matter — any  news  of  an  exciting  character  ?  The  old  man, 
a  cotton  broker — an  Englishman — replied  that  he,  B.,  ^  had 
been  making  an  ass  of  himself — he  had  been  eating  out  of 
the  finger-bowl.'  B.'s  face  grew  as  red  as  a  beet — then  pale  ; 
he  jumped  back — tried  to  creep  out  by  bending  his  head 
down  below  the  chairs — rushed  on  and  knocked  over  the 
waiter  with  the  coffee — spilt  it  on  a  young  lady — staggered 
back  and  fell  against  a  Frenchman — tore  his  ruffles — knock- 
ed him,  head  striking  head,  over  against  an  Irishman — quar- 
rel— two  duels  next  morning — -Frenchman  killed.  Gen. 
Sacre  Froglegge  rose  and  proposed  three  cheers  for  the  gen- 
tleman of  retiring  habits  ;  encored :  wine  all  around  the 
board — uproarious  doings  :  Tom  Placide  called  on  to  rehearse 
the  scene — done — applause  terriffic  :  Beechim  got  out — for- 
got where  his  hat  was — ran  bare-headed  to  the  bar  (?) — call- 
ed for  his  bill — never  got  his  clothes — ran  to  the  steamboat — 
shut  himself  up  in  the  state  room  for  two  days  ; — thing  out 
?h  the  Picayune  next  morning — no  names  given.  B.  came 
home — saw  Cousins  when  he  came  up — licked  him  within  an 
inch  of  his  life  with  a  hickory  stick.  Witness  further  saith 
not." 


190  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

"  Yes  "  said  the  judge,  "  and  served  him  right.  Justifi- 
cation complete  !     So  enter  it,  clerk." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  testimony,  you  may  be  sure 
that  the  crowd  were  not  very  serious  ;  but  knowing  how  sen- 
sitive Beechim  was  on  the  subject,  I  was  congratulating  my- 
self that  he  was  not  present.  Turning  from  the  witness  as 
he  finished,  I  was  pained  to  see  Beechim — he  had  come  in 
after  the  trial  began, — poor  Paul !  sitting  on  the  bench  weep- 
ing piteously.  I  tried  to  console  him — I  told  him  not  to 
mind  it — it  was  a  mere  bagatelle;  but  he  only  squeezed  my 
hand,  and  brokenly  said,  "  B.,  thank  you ;  you  are  my  friend  : 
I  shall  never  forget  you  ;  you  meant  it  for  the  best : — you 
have  saved  my  body  but  you  have  ruined  my  character. 
Good-bye,  I  leave  this  morning.  Boberts  will  settle  your 
fee.  But,  B.,  as  a  friend — one  request;  if — you — can — 
help — it — don't — let — this — thing — get — back —  to —  Knox- 
ville." 

^^  Et  dulces  moriens  reminiscitur  Argos^ 

Accordingly  Paul  left — for  good  and  all.  What  became 
of  him  I  don't  know.  I  did  hear  of  one  Paul  Beechim  in 
California ;  but  whether  the  same  one  or  not,  I  can't  say. 
He  was  named  in  the  papers  as  a  manager  of  the  first  San 
Francisco  ball  of  22d  February,  1849. 

His  Honor  made  a  solemn  and  afi'ecting  charge  to  the 
audience,  generally,  commending  the  moderation  of  young 
Beechim.  "  See,"  said  his  Honor,  "  the  way  that  this  thing 
works.      Most  men  would  have  seized  their  gun,  or  bowie, 


JUSTIFICATION    AFTER    VERDICT.  191 

on  such  terrible  aggravation,  and  taken  the  life  of  the  cul 
prit ;  but  this  young  gentleman  has  set  an  example  which 
older  heads  might  well  copy :  he  has  contented  himself  with 
taking  a  club  and  giving  him  a  good,  sound,  constitutional, 
conservative  licking;  and  you  see,  gentlemen,  the  milder 
remedy  has  answered  every  good  purpose  !  The  Court  ad- 
journs for  refreshment." 


192     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  0?  ALABAMA. 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOE. 

In  the  pleasant  village  of  Patton's-Hill,  in  the  Flush 
Times^  there  were  several  resorts  for  the  refreshment  of  the 
weary  traveller,  and  for  the  allaying  of  the  chronic  thirst  of 
more  than  one  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  place  and  the  coun- 
try adjacent.  They  are  closed  now,  as  are  the  gaping  por- 
tals of  those  who  were  wont  in  the  wild  days,  to  '^  indulge  " 
in  exciting  beverages.  A  staid,  quiet,  moral  and  intelligent 
community  have  supplied  the  place  of  many  of  the  early 
settlers  ^'  who  left  their  country  for  their  country's  good  ;  " 
and  churches,  school-houses  and  Lodges  now  are  prominent 
where  the  ^'  doggery  "  made  wild  work  with  ^'  the  peace  and 
dignity  of  the  State,"  and  the  respectability  and  decency  of 
particular  individuals. 

In  the  old  times  there  came  into  the  village  of  a  Satur- 
day evening,  a  company  more  promiscuous  than  select,  who 
gathered,  like  bees  at  the  mouth  of  a  hive,  around  the  doors 
of  the  grocery.  On  one  of  these  occasions  a  scene  occurred, 
which  I  think  worthy  of  commemoration ;  and  it  may  be  re- 
lied upon  as  authentic,  in  the  main,  as  it  came  regularly  be- 


AN    AFFAIR    OF    HONOR.  193 

fore  the  Court  as  a  part  of  the  proceedings  of  a  trial  in  a 
State  case. 

Jonas  Sykes  was  a  very  valiant  man  when  in  liquor. 
But  JonaSj  like  a  good  many  other  valiant  men,  was  more 
valiant  in  peace  than  in  war.  He  was  a  very  Samson  in 
fight — but,  like  Samson,  he  liked  to  do  battle  with  that  de- 
scription of  weapon  which  so  scattered  the  Philistine  hosts 
— that  jaw-bone — one  of  which  Nature  had  furnished  Jonas 
with.  Jonas  was  prodigal  in  the  jaw-work  and  wind-work 
of  a  fight,  and  he  could  outswear  "  our  army  in  Flanders." 
He  had  method  in  his  madness,  too,  as  he  showed  in  select- 
ing his  enemies.  He  always  knew,  or  thought  he  knew,  how 
much  a  man  would  stand  before  he  commenced  '^  abusing  " 
him,  and  his  wrath  grew  the  fiercer  according  as  the  patience 
of  his  enemy  grew  greater,  and  he  was  more  fierce — like  a 
bull-dog  chained — as  he  was  the  more  held  ofi*. 

Jonas  had  picked  a  quarrel  with  a  quiet,  demure  fellow 
of  the  name  of  Samuel  Mooney,  and  lavished  upon  that  gen- 
tleman's liver,  soul  and  eyes,  many  expressions  much  more 
fervid  than  polite  or  kind.  Sam  stood  it  for  some  time,  but 
at  length,  like  a  terrapin  with  coals  on  his  back,  even  his 
sluggish  spirit  could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  began  to  retort 
on  Jonas  some  of  the  inverted  compliments  with  which  Jo- 
nas had  besprinkled  him.  Whereupon  Jonas  felt  his  chiv- 
alry so  moved  thereat,  that*  he  challenged  him  to  mortal 
combat. 

Now,  Jcnas,  as  most  bullies  did  at  that  time,  went  armed. 
Samuel  bad  no  weepin^^  as  he  called  those  dangerous  imple- 


194  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ments,  and  gave  that  fact  as  an  apology  for  not  accepting 
Jonas's  kind  invitation.  But  Jonas  would  not  ^' hear  to  " 
any  such  paltry  excuse  :  he  denounced  Sam,  for  a  white- 
livered  poltroon,  who  would  insult  a  gentleman  (thereby 
meaning  himself),  and  then  refuse  him  satisfaction,  and  swore 
he  would  post  him  up  all  over  town  ;  regretting  that  he  did 
not  have  the  chance  of  blowing  a  hole  through  his  carcass  with 
his  "  Derringer  "  that  '•  a  bull-bat  could  fly  through  without 
tetching  airy  wing,"  and  giving  him  his  solemn  word  of 
honor  that  if  he,  (Sam.)  would  only  fight  him,  (Jonas,)  he, 
(Jonas,)  wouldn't  hit  him,  (Sam,)  an  inch  above  his  hip- 
bone— which  certainly  was  encouraging. 

Sam  still  protested  he  was  weaponless.  "  Well,"  said 
Jonas,  "  you  shan't  have  that  excuse  any  longer.  I've  got' 
two  as  good  pistols  as  ever  was  bought  at  Orlcens^  and  you 
may  have  choice."  And  pulling  one  out  of  either  side 
pocket,  he  produced  two  pistols  very  much  alike,  and,  ad- 
vancing to  Sam,  put  his  hands  behind  him  and  shuffled  them 
from  hand  to  hand  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  held  them 
forward — one  rather  in  advance  of  the  other — towards  Sam, 
telling  him  to  take  which  he  chose.  Sam  took  the  one  near- 
est to  him,  and  Jonas  called  out  to  Bob  Dobbs,  who  stood 
by,  "  to  put  them  through  in  a  fair  duel,"  and  called  the 
crowd  to  witness  ^'  that  he  done  it  to  the rascal  accord- 
in'  to  law."  Bob  willingly  accepted  the  honorable  position 
assigned  him ;  commanded  order  ;  made  the  crowd  stand 
back ; — measured  off  the  ground — ten  paces — and  stationed 
the  combatants  sidewise  in  duelling  position.      Bob  then 


AN    AFFAIPv.    OF    HONOR.  195 

armed  himself  with  a  scythe  blade,  and  flourishing  it  in  the 
air,  swore  death  and  destruction  to  all  who  should  interfere 
by  word,  look,  or  sign. 

Bob  took  his  position  at  a  right  angle  between  the  two, 
and  gave  out  in  a  loud  and  sonorous  voice  the  programme  of 
proceedings.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  ^^  the  rules  are  as  fol- 
lows :  the  parties  are  to  be  asked — '  Gentlemen  are  you 
ready  ' — answeriug  Yes,  I,  as  mutual  second,  will  then  pro- 
nounce the  words  slowly,  ^  Eire  :  one — two — three ;  '  the 
parties  to  fire  as  they  choose  between  the  words  Fire  and 
three^  and  if  either  fires  before  or  after  the  time^  I  shall  pro- 
ceed to  put  him  to  death  without  quarter,  bail  or  main 
prize."  Micajah  F.,  a  lawyer  present,  suggested,  ''or  bene- 
fit of  clergy,"  ''  Yes,"  said  Bob,  ''  or  the  benefit  of  a 
clergyman." 

Bob  then  proceeded  to  give  the  words  out.  At  the 
word  tivo  Jonas's  pistol  snapped,  but  Sam's  went  off,  the 
ball  striking  a  button  on  Jonas's  drawers  and  cutting  off  a 
little  of  the  skin.  Jonas  fell — his  legs  flying  up  in  the  air, 
and  shouting,  ''  Murder  !  Murder  !  he's  knocked  off  all  the 
lower  part  of  my  ab^<^men.  Send  for  a  doctor !  quick ! 
quick  !  Oh  !  Lordy !  oh !  Lordy !  I'm  a  dead  man  :  the 
other  fellow  got  the — wrong — pistol !  "  (And  so  he  had  ;  for 
on  examining  Jonas's  pistol,  it  was  found  to  have  had  no 
load  in  it.  Jonas,  by  mistake  in  shuffling,  having  given  the 
loaded  one  to  Sam  and  kept  the  empty  one  himself) 

The  testimony  in  the  case  was  related  with  such  comic 
humor  by  one  of  the  witnesses,  that  the  jury  were  thrown 


196  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

into  conyulsions  of  laugliter  ;  and  the  case  being  submitted 
-without  argument,  the  verdict  was  a  fine  of  one  cent  only 
against  the  combatants. 

Jonas  immediately  retired  from  the  bullying  business ; 
and,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  his  affairs  wound  up,  like  "  the 
star  of  Empire,"  '*  westward  took  his  way." 


HON.    S.    S.    PRENTISS.  197 


HON.  S.  S.  PRENTISS. 

The  character  of  the  bar,  in  the  older  portions  of  the 
State  of  Mississippi,  was  very  different  from  that  of  the  bar 
in  the  new  districts.  Especially  was  this  the  case  with  the 
counties  on  and  near  the  Mississippi  river.  In  its  front  ranks 
stood  Prentiss,  Holt,  Boyd,  Quitman,  Wilkinson,  Winches- 
ter, Foote,  Henderson,  and  others. 

It  was  at  the  period  first  mentioned  by  me,  in  1837,  that 
Sargeant  S.  Prentiss  was  in  the  flower  of  his  forensic  fame. 
He  had  not,  at  that  time,  mingled  largely  in  federal  politics. 
He  had  made  but  few  enemies ;  and  had  not  '^  gtaled  his  pre- 
sence," but  was  in  all  the  freshness  of  his  unmatched  fac- 
ulties. At  this  day  it  is  difficult  for  any  one  to  appreciate 
the  enthusiasm  which  greeted  this  gifted  man,  the  admiration 
which  was  felt  for  him,  and  the  affection  which  followed  him. 
He  was  to  Mississippi,  in  her  youth,  what  Jenny  Lind  is  to 
the  musical  world,  or  what  Charles  Fox,  whom  he  resembled 
in  many  things,  was  to  the  whig  party  of  England  in  his  day. 
Why  he  was  so,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see.  He  was  a  type  of 
his  times,  a  representative  of  the  qualities  of  the  people,  or 


I98  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

rather  of  the  better  qualities  of  the  wilder  and  more  im- 
petuous part  of  them.  The  proportion  of  young  men — as  in 
all  new  countries — was  great,  and  the  proportion  of  wild 
young  men  was,  unfortunately,  still  greater. 

He  had  all  those  qualities  which  make  us  charitable  to 
the  character  of  Prince  Hal,  as  it  is  painted  by  Shakspeare, 
even  when  our  approval  is  not  fully  bestowed.  Generous  as 
a  prince  of  the  royal  blood,  brave  and  chivalrous  as  a  knight 
templar,  of  a  spirit  that  scorned  every  thing  mean,  underhand- 
ed or  servile,  he  was  prodigal  to  improvidence,  instant  in 
resentment,  and  bitter  in  his  animosities,  yet  magnanimous 
to  forgive  when  reparation  had  been  made,  or  misconstruction 
explained  away.  There  was  no  littleness  about  him.  Even 
towards  an  avowed  enemy  he  was  open  and  manly,  and  bore 
himself  with  a  sort  of  antique  courtesy  and  knightly  hostility, 
in  which  self-respect  mingled  with  respect  for  his  foe,  except 
when  contempt  was  mixed  with  hatred  ;  then  no  words  can 
convey  any  sense  of  the  intensity  of  his  scorn,  the  depth  of 
his  loathing.  When  he  thus  outlawed  a  man  from  his  cour- 
tesy and  respect,  language  could  scarce  supply  words  to  ex- 
press his  .disgust  and  detestation. 

Fear  seemed  to  be  a  stranger  to  his  nature.  He  never 
hesitated  to  meet,  nor  did  he  wait  for,  ''  responsibili- 
ty," but  he  went  in  quest  of  it.  To  denounce  meanness 
or  villainy,  in  any  and  all  forms,  when  it  came  in  his  way, 
was .  w^ith  him,  a  matter  of  dut}-,  from  which  he  never  shrunk ; 
and  so  to  denounce  it  as  to  bring  himself  in  direct  collision 
with  the  perpetrator  or  perpetrators — for  he  took  them  in 


HON.  S.  S.  PRENTISS.  19^ 

crowds  as  well  as  singly — w^as  a  task  for  which  he  was  instant 
in  season  or  out  of  season. 

Even  in  the  vices  of  Prentiss,  there  were  magnificence 
and  brilliancy  imposing  in  a  high  degree.  When  he  treated 
it  was  a  mass  entertainment.  On  one  occasion  he  char- 
tered the  theatre  for  the  special  gratification  of  his  friends, 
— the  public  generally.  He  bet  thousands  on  the  turn  of  a 
card,  and  witnessed  the  success  or  failure  of  the  wager  with 
the  nonchalance  of  a  Mexican  nionte-player,  or,  as  was  most 
usual,  with  the  light  humor  of  a  Spanish  muleteer.  He  broke 
a  faro-bank  by  the  nerve  with  which  he  laid  his  large  bets, 
and  by  exciting  the  passion  of  the  veteran  dealer,  or  awed 
him  into  honesty  by  the  glance  of  his  strong  and  steady 
eye. 

Attachment  to  his  friends  was  a  passion.  It  was  a  part 
of  the  loyalty  to  the  honorable  and  chivalric,  which  formed 
the  sub-soil  of  his  strange  and  wayward  nature.  He  never 
deserted  a  friend.  His  confidence  knew  no  bounds.  It  scorn- 
ed all  restraints  and  considerations  of  prudence  or  policy. 
He  made  his- friends'  quarrels  his  own,  and  was  as  guardful 
of  their  reputations  as  of  his  own.  He  would  put  \m  name 
on  the  back  of  their  paper,  without  looking  at  the  face  of  it, 
and  give  his  carte  blanche^  if  needed,  by  the  quire.  He  w^as 
above  the  littleness  of  jealousy  or  rivalry  ;  and  his  love  of 
truth,  his  fidelity  and  frankness,  were  formed  on  the  antique 
models  of  the  chevaliers.  But  in  social  qualities  he  knew  no 
rival.  These  made  him  the  delight  of  every  circle ;  they 
were  adapted  to  all,  and  were  exercised  on  all.     The  same 


200  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

histrionic  and  dramatic  talent  that  gave  to  his  oratory  so  ir- 
resistible a  charm,  and  adapted  him  to  all  grades  and  sorts 
of  people,  fitted  him,  in  conversation,  to  delight  all  men.  He 
never  staled  and  never  flagged.  Even  if  the  fund  of  acquir- 
ed capital  could  have  run  out,  his  originality  was  such,  that 
his  supply  from  the  perennial  fountain  within  was  inexhausti- 
ble. 

His  humor  was  as  various  as  profound — from  the  most 
delicate  wit  to  the  broadest  farce,  from  irony  to  caricature, 
from  classical  allusion  to  the  verge — and  sometimes  beyond 
the  verge — of  coarse  jest  and  Falstaff  extravagance  ;  and  no 
one  knew  in  which  department  he  most  excelled.  His  ani- 
mal spirits  flowed  over  like  an  artesian  well,  ever  gushing 
out  in  a  deep,  bright,  and  sparkling  current. 

He  never  seemed  to  despond  or  droop  for  a  moment:  the 
cares  and  anxieties  of  life  were  mere  bagatelles  to  him.  Sent 
to  jail  for  fighting  in  the  court-house,  he  made  the  walls  of 
the  prison  resound  with  unaccustomed  shouts  of  merriment 
and  revelry.  Starting  to  fight  a  duel,  he  laid  down  his  hand 
at  poker,  to  resume  it  with  a  smile  when  he  returned,  and 
went  on  the  field  laughing  with  his  friends,  as  to  a  pic-nic. 
Yet  no  one  knew  better  the  proprieties  of  life  than  himself 
— when  to  put  off  levity,  and  treat  grave  subjects  and  per- 
sons with  proper  pespect ;  and  no  one  could  assume  and  pre- 
serve more  gracefully  a  dignified  and  sober  demeanor. 

His  early  reading  and  education  had  been  extensive  and 
deep.  Probably  no  man  of  his  age,  in  the  State,  was  so  well 
read   in  the   ancient  and  modern  classics,  in  the    current 


HON.   S.   S.  PRENTISS.  20 1 

literature  of  the  day,  and — what  may  seem  stranger — 
in  the  sacred  scriptures.  His  speeches  drew  some  of  their 
grandest  images,  strongest  expressions,  and  aptest  illustra- 
tions from  the  inspired  writings. 

The  personnel  of  this  remarkable  man  was  well  calculat- 
ed to  rivet  the  interest  his  character  inspired.  Though  he 
was  low  of  stature,  and  deformed  in  one  leg,  his  frame  was 
uncommonly  athletic  and  m^uscular  ;  his  arms  and  chest  were 
well  formed,  the  latter  deep  and  broad ;  his  head  large,  and 
a  model  of  classical  proportions  and  noble  contour.  A  hand- 
some face,  compact  brow,  massive  and  expanded,  and  eyes  of 
dark  hazel,  full  and  clear,  were  fitted  for  the  expression  of 
every  passion  and  flitting  shade  of  feeling  and  sentiment.  His 
complexion  partook  of  the  bilious  rather  than  the  sanguine 
temperament.  The  skin  was  smooth  and  bloodless — no  excite- 
ment or  stimulus  heightened  its  color  ;  nor  did  the  writer  ever 
see  any  evidence  in  his  face  of  irregularity  of  habit.  In  repose, 
his  countenance  was  serious  and  rather  melancholy — certainly 
somewhat  soft  and  quiet  in  expression,  but  evidencing 
strength  and  power,  and  the  masculine  rather  than  the 
light  and  flexible  qualities  which  characterized  him  in  his 
convivial  moments.  There  was  nothing  afi'ected  or  the- 
atrical in  his  manner,  though  some  parts  of  his  printed 
speeches  would  seem  to  indicate  this.  He  was  frank  and 
artless  as  a  child  ;  and  nothing  could  have  been  more  winning 
than  his  familiar  intercourse  with  the  bar,  with  whom  he  was 
always  a  favorite,  and  without  a  rival  in  their  afi'ection. 

I  come  now  to  speak  of  him  as  a  lawyer. 


202  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

He  was  more  widely  known  as  a  politician  than  a  lawyer, 
as  an  advocate  than  a  jurist.  This  was  because  politics  form 
a  wider  and  more  conspicuous  theatre  than  the  bar,  and  be- 
cause the  mass  of  men  are  better  judges  of  oratory  than  of 
law.  That  he  was  a  man  of  wonderful  versatility  and  varied 
accomplishments,  is  most  true  ;  that  he  was  a  popular  orator 
of  the  first  class  is  also  true  ;  and  that  all  of  his  faculties 
did  not  often,  if  ever,  find  employment  in  his  profession, 
may  be  true  likewise.  So  far  he  appeared  to  better  advan- 
tage in  a  deliberative  assembly,  or  before  the  people,  because 
there  he  had  a  wider  range  and  subjects  of  a  more  general 
interest,  and  was  not  fettered  by  rules  and  precedents  ;  his 
genius  expanded  over  a  larger  area,  and  exercised  his  powers 
in  greater  variety  and  number.  Moreover,  a  stump  speech 
is  rarely  made  chiefly  for  conviction  and  persuasion,  but  to 
gratify  and  delight  the  auditors,  and  to  raise  the  character 
of  the  speaker.  Imagery,  anecdote,  ornament,  eloquence  and 
elocution,  are  in  better  taste  than  in  a  speech  at  the  bar, 
where  the  chief  and  only  legitimate  aim  is  to  convince  and 
instruct. 

It  will  always  be  a  mooted  point  among  Prentiss's  ad- 
mirers, as  to  where  his  strength  chiefly  lay.  My  own  opin- 
ion is  that  it  was  as  a  jurist  that  he  mostly  excelled  ;  that 
it  consisted  in  knoioing  and  being  able  to  shoiv  to  others 
what  ivas  the  law.  I  state  the  opinion  with  some  diffidence, 
and,  did  it  rest  on  my  own  judgment  alone,  should  not  haz- 
ard it  at  alL  But  the  eminent  chief  justice  of  the  high 
court  of   errors   and   appeals  of    Mississippi   thought  that 


HON.  S.  S.  PRENTISS.  203 

Prentiss  appeared  to  most  advantage  before  that  cour^ ;  and 
a  distinguished  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Alabama,  who 
had  heard  him  before  the  chancellor  of  Mississippi,  expressed 
to  me  the  opinion  that  his  talents  shone  most  conspicuously 
in  that  forum.  These  were  men  who  could  be  led  from  a 
fair  judgment  of  a  legal  argument  by  mere  oratory,  about 
as  readily  as  old  Playfair  could  be  turned  from  a  true  criti- 
cism upon  a  mathematical  treatise,  by  its  being  burnished 
over  with  extracts  from  fourth-of- July  harangues.  Had  bril- 
liant declamation  been  his  only  or  chief  faculty,  there  were 
plenty  of  his  competitors  at  the  bar,  who,  by  their  learning 
and  powers  of  argument,  would  have  knocked  the  spangles 
off  him,  and  sent  his  cases  whirling  out  of  court,  to  the  as- 
tonishment of  hapless  clients  who  had  trusted  to  such  fragile 
help  in  time  of  trial. 

It  may  be  asked  how  is  this  possible  ?  How  is  it  con- 
sistent with  the  jealous  demands  which  the  law  makes  of 
the  ceaseless  and  persevering  attention  of  her  followers  as 
the  condition  of  her  favors  %  The  question  needs  an  an- 
swer. It  is  to  be  found  somewhere  else  than  in  the  un- 
aided resources  of  even  such  an  intellect  as  that  of  Sergeant 
Prentiss.  In  some  form  or  other,  Prentiss  always  loas  a 
student.  Probably  the  most  largely  developed  of  all  his 
faculties  was  his  memory.  He  gathered  information  with 
marvellous  rapidity.  The  sun-stroke  that  makes  its  impres- 
sion upon  the  medicated  plate  is  not  more  rapid  in  trans* 
cribing,  or  more  faithful  in  fixing  its  -image,  than  was  his 
perception  in  taking  cognizance  of  facts  and  principles,  or 


204  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

his  ability  to  retain  them.  Once  fixed,  the  impression  was 
there  for  ever.  It  is  true,  as  Mr.  Wirt  observed,  that  genius 
must  have  materials  to  work  on.  No  man,  how  magnificent- 
ly soever  endowed,  can  possibly  be  a  safe,  much  less  a  great 
lawyer,  who  does  not  understand  the  facts  and  law  of  his 
case.  But  some  men  may  understand  them  much  more 
readily  than  others.  There  are  labor-saving  minds,  as  well 
as  labor-saving  machines,  and  that  of  Mr.  Prentiss  was  one 
of  them.  In  youth  he  had  devoted  himself  with  intense 
application  to  legal  studies,  and  had  mastered,  as  few  men 
have  done,  the  elements  of  the  law  and  much  of  its  text- 
book learning.  So  acute  and  retentive  an  observer  must 
too — especially  in  the  freshness  and  novelty  of  his  first  years 
of  practice — "  have  absorbed  "  no  little  law  as  it  floated 
through  the  court-house,  or  was  distilled  from  the  bench  and 
bar. 

But  more  especially,  it  should  be  noted  that  Mr.  Pren- 
tiss, until  the  fruition  of  his  fame,  was  a  laborious  man,  even 
in  the  tapestring  sense.  While  the  world  was  spreading 
the  wild  tales  of  his  youth,  his  deviations,  though  conspicu- 
ous enough  while  they  lasted^  were  only  occasional,  and  at 
long  intervals,  the  intervening  time  being  occupied  in  ab- 
stemious application  to  his  studies.  Doubtless,  too,  the 
supposed  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  success  were  greatly  ex- 
aggerated, the  vulgar  having  a  great  proneness  to  magnify 
the  frailties  of  great  men,  and  to  lionize  genius  by  making  it 
independent,  for  its  splendid  achievements,  of  all 'external 
aids. 


HON.   S.   S.  PRENTISS.  205 

With  these  allowances,  however,  truth  requires  the  ad- 
mission that  Mr.  Prentiss  did,  when  at  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment, occupy  the  hours,  usually  allotted  by  the  diligent  prac- 
titioner to  books  or  clients,  in  amusements  not  well  suited  ' 
to  prepare  him  for  those  great  efforts  which  have  indis- 
solubly  associated  his  name  with  the  judicial  history  of  the 
State. 

As  an  advocate,  Mr.  Prentiss  attained  a  wider  celebrity 
than  as  a  jurist.  Indeed,  he  was  more  formidable  in  this 
than  in  any  other  department  of  his  profession.  Before  the 
Supreme,  or  Chancery,  or  Circuit  Court,  upon  the  law  of  the 
case,  inferior  abilities  might  set  off,  against  greater  native 
powers,  superior  application  and  research  ;  or  the  precedents 
might  overpower  him  ;  or  the  learning  or  judgment  of  the 
bench  might  come  in  aid  of  the  right,  even  when  more  feebly 
defended  than  assailed.  But  what  protection  had  mediocrity, 
or  even  second-rate  talent,  against  the  influences  of  excite- 
ment and  fascination,  let  loose  upon  a  mercurial  jury,  at  least 
as  easily  impressed  through  their  passions  as  their  reason  ? 
The  boldness  of  his  attacks,  his  iron  nerve,  his  adroitness, 
his  power  of  debate,  the  overpowering  fire — broadside  after 
broadside — which  he  poured  into  the  assailable  points  of  his 
adversary,  his  facility  and  plainness  of  illustration,  and  his 
talent  of  adapting  himself  to  every  mind  and  character  he 
addressed,  rendered  him,  on  all  debatable  issues,  next  to 
irresistible.  To  give  him  the  eonclusion  was  nearly  the  same 
thing  as  to  give  him  the  verdict. 

In  the  examination  of  witnesses,  he  was  thought  particu- 


206  SKETCHES    OF    V  IE    FLU?H    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA 

larly  to  excel.  He  wasted  no  time  by  irrelevant  questions. 
He  seemed  to  weigh  every  question  before  he  put  it,  and  see 
clearly  its  bearing  upon  every  part  of  the  case.  The  facts 
were  brought  out  in  natural  and  simple  order.  He  exam- 
ined as  few  witnesses,  and  elicited  as  few  facts  as  he  could 
safely  get  along  with.  In  this  way  he  avoided  the  danger  of 
discrepancy,  and  kept  his  mind  undiverted  from  the  control- 
ling points  in  the  case.  The  jury  were  left  unwearied  and 
unconfused,  and  saw,  before  the  argument,  the  bearing  of  the 
testimony. 

He  avoided,  too,  the  miserable  error  into  which  so  many 
lawyers  fall,  of  making  every  possible  point  in  a  case, 
and  pressing  all  with  equal  force  and  confidence,  thereby 
prejudicing  the  mind  of  the  court,  and  making  the  jury 
believe  that  the  trial  of  a  cause  is  but  running  a  jockey 
race. 

In  arguing  a  cause  of  much  public  interest,  he  got  all 
the  benefit  of  the  sympathy  and  feeling  of  the  by-standers. 
He  would  sometimes  turn  towards  them  in  an  impassioned 
appeal,  as  if  looking  for  a  larger  audience  than  court  and 
jury;  and  the  excitement  of  the  outsiders,  especially  in 
criminal  cases,  was  thrown  with  great  efi"ect  into  the  jury- 
box. 

Mr.  Prentiss  was  never  thrown  off  his  guard,  or  seem- 
ingly taken  by  surprise.  He  kept  his  temper  ;  or,  if  he  got 
furious,  there  was  ^^  method  in  his  madness. " 

He  had  a  faculty  in  speaking  I  never  knew  possesed  by 
any  other  person.     He   seemed  to  speak  without  any  efibrt 


HON.  S.   S.  PRENTISS.  207 

of  tho  will.  There  seemed  to  be  no  governing  or  guiding 
power  to  the  particular  faculty  called  into  exercise.  It 
worked  on,  and  its  treasures  flowed  spontaneously.  There 
was  no  air  of  thought,  no  elevation,  frowning  or  knitting  of  the 
brow — no  fixing  up  of  the  countenance — no  pauses  to  collect 
or  arrange  his  thoughts.  All  seemed  natural  and  unpre- 
meditated. No  one  ever  felt  uneasy  lest  he  might  fall ;  in 
his  most  brilliant  flights  "  the  empyrean  heights"  into  which 
he  soared  seemed  to  be  his  natural  element — as  the  upper 
air  the  eagle's. 

Among  the  most  powerful  of  his  jury  efi'orts,  were  his 
speeches  against  Bird,  for  the  murder  of  Cameron  ;  and 
against  Phelps,  the  notorious  highway  robber  and  murderer. 
Both  were  convicted.  The  former  owed  his  conviction,  as 
General  Foote,  who  defended  him  with  great  zeal  and  ability, 
thought,  to  the  transcendent  eloquence  of  Prentiss.  He  was 
justly  convicted,  however,  as  his  confession,  afterwards  made, 
proved.  Phelps  was  one  of  the  most  daring  and  desperate 
of  ruffians.  He  fronted  his  prosecutor  and  the  court,  not 
only  with  composure,  but  with  scornful  and  malignant  defi- 
ance. When  Prentiss  rose  to  speak,  and  for  some  time 
afterwards,  the  criminal  scowled  upon  him  a  look  of  hate 
and  insolence.  But  when  the  orator,  kindling  with  his  sub- 
ject, turned  upon  him,  and  poured  down  a  stream  of  burning 
invective,  like  lava,  upon  his  head  ;  when  he  depicted  the 
villainy  and  barbarity  of  his  bloody  atrocities ;  when  he 
pictured,  in  dark  and  dismal  colors,  the  fate  which  awaited 
him,  and  the  awful  judgment,  to  be  pronounced  at  another 


208  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

bar,  upon  his  crimes,  wlicn  he  should  be  confronted  with  his 
innocent  victims  :  when  he  fixed  his  gaze  of  concentrated 
power  upon  him,  the  strong  man's  face  relaxed  ;  his  ejes 
faltered  and  fell  ;  until  at  length,  unable  to  bear  up  longer, 
self-convicted,  he  hid  his  head  beneath  the  bar,  and  exhibit- 
ed a  picture  of  ruffian-audacity  cowed  beneath  the  spell  of 
true  courage  and  triumphant  genius.  Though  convicted,  he 
was  not  hung.  He  broke  jail^  and  resisted  recapture  so  des- 
perately, that  although  he  was  encumbered  with  his  fetters, 
his  pursuers  had  to  kill  him  in  self-defence,  or  permit  his 
escape. 

In  his  defence  of  criminals,  in  that  large  class  of  cases  in 
which  something  of  elevation  or  bravery  in  some  sort,  re- 
deemed the  lawlessness  of  the  act,  where  murder  was  com- 
mitted  under  a  sense  of  outrage,  or  upon  sudden  resentment, 
and  in  fair  combat,  his  chivalrous  spirit  upheld  the  the  pub- 
lic sentiment,  which,  if  it  did  not  justify  that  sort  of  '^  wild 
justice,"  could  not  be  brought  to  punish  it  ignominiously. 
His  appeals  fell  like  flames  on  those 

*'  Souls  made  of  fire,  and  children  of  the  sun, 
"With  whom  revenge  was  virtue." 

I  have  never  heard  of  but  one  client  of  his  who  was  con- 
victed on  a  charge  of  homicide,  and  he  was  convicted  of  one 
of  its  lesser  degrees.  So  successful  was  he,  that  the  expres- 
sion— "  Prentiss  couldn't  clear  him  " — was  a  hyperbole  that 
expressed  the  desperation  of  a  criminal's  fortunes. 

Mr.  P.  was  employed  only  in  important  cases,  and  gene- 


HON.   S.   S.  PRENTISS.  209 

rally  as  associate  counsel,  and  was  thereby  relieved  of 
much  of  the  preliminary  preparation  which  occupies  so  much 
of  the  time  of  the  attorney  in  getting  a  case  ripe  for  trial. 
In  the  Supreme  and  Chancery  Courts  he  had,  of  course,  only 
to  examine  the.  record  and  prepare  his  argument.  On  the 
circuit  his  labors  were  much  more  arduous.  The  important 
criminal  and  civil  causes  which  he  argued,  necessarily  requir- 
ed consultations  with  clients,  the  preparation  of  pleadings 
and  proofs,  either  under  his  supervision,  or  by  his  advice  and 
direction ;  and  this,  from  the  number  and  difficulty  of  the 
cases,  must  have  consumed  time  and  required  application 
and  industry. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  his  long  vigils  and  contin- 
ued excitement  did  not  enfeeble  his  energies.  Indeed,  he 
has  been  known  to  assert,  that  he  felt  brighter,  and  in  better 
preparation  for  forensic  debate,  after  sitting  up  all  night  in 
company  with  his  friends  than  at  any  other  time.  He  re- 
quired less  sleep,  probably,  than  any  man  in  the  State,  sel- 
dom devoting  to  that  purpose  more  than  three  or  four  hours 
in  the  twenty-four.  After  his  friends  had  retired  at  a  late 
hour  in  the  night,  or  rather  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning, 
he  has  been  known  to  get  his  books  and  papers  and  prepare 
for  the  business  of  the  day. 

His  faculty  of  concentration  drew  his  energies,  as  through 
a  lens,  upon  the  subject  before  him.  No  matter  what  he 
was  engaged  in,  his  intellect  was  in  ceaseless  play  and  motion. 
Alike  comprehensive  and  systematic  in  the  arrangement  of 
his  thoughts,  he  reproduced  without  difficulty  what  he  had 
once  conceived. 


^10  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Probably  something  would  have  still  been  wanting  to  ex- 
plain his  celerity  of  preparation  for  his  causes,  had  not  par- 
tial nature  gifted  him  with  the  lawyer's  highest  talent,  the 
acumen  which,  like  an  instinct,  enabled  him  to  see  the  points 
which  the  record  presented.  His  genius  for  generalizing 
saved  him,  in  a  moment,  the  labor  of  a  long  and  tedious  re- 
flection upon,  and  collation  of,  the  several  parts  of  a  narra- 
tive. He  read  with  great  rapidity  ;  glancing  his  eyes  through 
a  page  he  caught  the  substance  of  its  contents  at  a  view. 
His  analysis,  too,  was  wonderful.  The  chemist  does  not  re- 
duce the  contents  of  his  alembic  to  their  elements  more  rap- 
idly or  surely  than  he  resolved  the  most  complicated  facts 
into  primary  principles. 

His  statements — like  those  of  all  great  lawyers— were 
clear,  perspicuous  and  compact ;  the  language  simple  and 
sententious.  Considered  in  the  most  technical  sense^  as  fo- 
rensic arguments  merely,  no  one  will  deny  that  his  speeches 
were  admirable  and  able  efforts.  If  the  professional  reader 
will  turn  to  the  meagre  reports  of  his  arguments  in  the  cases 
of  Koss  V.  Ycrtiier^  5  How.  305  ;  Yich  et  al.  v.  The  Mayor 
and  Aldermen  of  Vicksburg^  1  How.  381  ;  and  The  Plant  - 
ers'  Banh  v.  Snod grass  et  al^  he  will,  I  think,  concur  in 
this  opinion. 

Anecdotes  are  not  wanting  to  show  that  even  in  the  Sup- 
reme Court  he  argued  some  cases  of  great  importance,  without 
knowing  any  thing  about  them  till  the  argument  was  com- 
menced. One  of  these  savors  of  the  ludicrous.  Mr.  Prentiss 
was  retained,  as  associate  counsel,  with  Mr.  (now  Gen.)  M — , 


HON.   S.  S.  PRENTISS.  211 

at  that  time  one  of  the  most  promising  as  now  one  of  the 
most  distinguished,  lawyers  in  the  State.  During  the  session 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  at  which  the  case  was  to  come  on, 
Mr.  M —  called  Mr.  P.'s  attention  to  the  case,  and  proposed 
examining  the  record  together  ;  but  for  some  reason  this  was 
deferred  for  some  time.  At  last  it  was  agreed  to  examine 
into  the  case  the  night  before  the  day  set  for  the  hearing. 
At  the  appointed  time,  Prentiss  could  not  be  found.  Mr. 
M —  was  in  great  perplexity.  The  case  was  of  great  impor- 
tance ;  there  were  able  opposing  counsel,  and  his  client  and 
himself  had  trusted  greatly  to  Mr.  P.'s  assistance.  Prentiss 
appeared  in  the  court-room  when  the  case  was  called  up.  The 
junior  counsel  opened  the  case,  reading  slowly  from  the  re- 
cord all  that  was  necessary  to  give  a  clear  perception  of  its 
merits  ;  and  made  the  points,  and  read  the  authorities  he  had 
collected.  The  counsel  on  the  other  side  replied.  Mr.  P. 
rose  to  rejoin.  "  The  junior  could  scarcely  conceal  his  appro 
hensions.  But  there  was  no  cloud  on  the  brow  of  the  speak- 
er ;  the  consciousness  of  his  power  and  of  approaching  vic- 
tory sat  on  his  face.  He  commenced,  as  he  always  did,  by 
stating  clearly  the  case,  and  the  questions  raised  by  the  facts. 
He  proceeded  to  establish  the  propositions  he  contended  for, 
by  their  reason,  by  authorities,  and  collateral  analogies,  and 
to  illustrate  them  from  his  copious  resources  of  comparison. 
He  took  up,  one  by  one,  the  arguments  on  the  other  side,  and 
showed  their  fallacy ;  he  examined  the  authorities  relied  upon 
in  the  order  in  which  they  were  introduced,  and  showed  their 
inapplicability,  and  the  distinction  between  the  facts  of  the 


212    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

cases  reported  and  those  in  the  case  at  bar  ;  then  return- 
ing to  the  authorities  of  his  colleague,  he  showed  how  clear- 
ly, in  application  and  principle,  they  supported  his  own  ar- 
gument. When  he  had  sat  down,  his  colleague  declared 
that  Prentiss  had  taught  him  more  of  the  case  than  he  had 
gathered  from  his  own  researches  and  reflection. 

Mr.  Prentiss  had  scarcely  passed  a  decade  from  his  ma- 
jority w^hen  he  was  the  idol  of  Mississippi.  While  absent 
from  the  state  his  name  was  brought  before  the  people  for 
Congress  ;  the  State  then  voting  by  general  ticket,  and  elect- 
ing two  members.  He  was  elected,  the  sitting  members 
declining  to  present  themselves  before  the  people,  upon  the 
claim,  that  they  were  elected  at  the  special  election,  ordered 
by  Governor  Lynch,  for  two  years,  and  not  for  the  called 
session  merely.  Mr.  Prentiss,  with  Mr.  Word,  his  colleague 
went  on  to  Washington  to  claim  his  seat.  He  was  admitted 
to  the  bar  of  the  House  to  defend  and  assert  his  right.  He 
delivered  then  that  speech  which  took  the  House  and  the 
country  by  storm ;  an  effort  which  if  his  fame  rested  upon  it 
alone,  for  its  manliness  of  tone,  exquisite  satire,  gorgeous 
imagery,  and  argumentative  power,  would  have  rendered  his 
name  imperishable.  The  House,  opposed  to  him  as  it  was 
in  political  sentiment,  reversed  its  former  judgment,  which 
declared  Grholson  and  Claiborne  entitled  to  their  seats,  and 
divided  equally  on  the  question  of  admitting  Prentiss  and 
Word.  The  speaker,  however,  gave  the  casting  vote  against 
the  latter,  and  the  election  was  referred  back  to  the  people. 

Mr.  Prentiss  addressed  a  circular  to   the  voters   of  Mis- 


\[0^.  ^.  >.  PRENTISS.  213 

sissippi,  in  which  he  announced  his  intention  to  canvass  the 
State.  The  applause  which  greeted  him  at  Washington,  and 
which  attended  the  speeches  he  was  called  on  to  make  at  the 
Northj  came  thundering  back  to  his  adopted  State.  His 
friends — and  their  name  was  leo-ion — thouo-ht  before  that  his 
talents  were  of  the  highest  order ;  and  when  their  judgments 
were  thus  confirmed — when  they  received  the  indorsement 
of  such  men  as  Clay,  Webster,  and  Calhoun,  they  felt  a  kind 
of  personal  interest  in  him  :  he  was  their  Prentiss.  They 
had  first  discovered  him — first  brought  him  out — first  pro- 
claimed his  greatness.  Their  excitement  knew  no  bounds. 
Political  considerations,  too,  doubtless  had  their  weight. 
The  canvass  opened — it  was  less  a  canvass  than  an  ovation. 
He  went  through  the  State — an  herculean  task — making 
speeches  every  day,  except  Sundays,  in  the  sultry  months  of 
summer  and  fall.  The  people  of  all  classes  and  both  sexes 
turned  out  to  hear  him.  He  came,  as  he  declared,  less  on 
his  own  errand  than  theirs,  to  vindicate  a  violated  constitu- 
tion, to  rebuke  the  insult  to  the  honor  and  sovereignty  of  the 
State,  to  uphold  the  sacred  right  of  the  people  to  elect  their 
own  rulers.  The  theme  was  worthy  of  the  orator,  the  ora- 
tor of  the  subject. 

This  period  may  be  considered  the  golden  prime  of  the 
genius  of  Prentiss.  His  real  efi'ective  greatness  here  attain- 
ed its  culminating  point.  He  had  the  whole  State  for  his 
audience,  the  honor  of  the  State  for  his  subject.  He  came 
well  armed  and  well  equipped  for  the  warfare.  Not  content  with 
challenging  his  competitors  to  the  field,  he  threw  down  the 


214  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

gauntlet  to  all  comers.  Party,  or  ambition,  or  some  other 
motive,  constrained  several  gentlemen — famous  before,  no- 
torious afterwards — to  meet  him.  In  every  instance  of 
such  temerity,  the  opposer  was  made  to  bite  the  dust. 

The  ladies  surrounded  the  rostrum  with  their  carriages, 
and  added,  by  their  beauty,  interest  to  the  scene.  There 
was  no  element  of  oratory  that  his  genius  did  not  supply. 
It  was  plain  to  see  whence  his  boyhood  had  drawn  its  roman- 
tic inspiration.  His  imagination  was  colored  and  imbued  with 
the  light  of  the  shadowy  past,  and  was  richly  stored  with  the 
unreal  but  life-like  creations,  which  the  genius  of  Shakspeare 
and  Scott  had  evoked  from  the  ideal  world.  He  had  linger- 
ed, spell-bound,  among  the  scenes  of  mediaeval  chivalry.  His 
spirit  had  dwelt,  until  almost  naturalized,  in  the  mystic 
'dream-land  they  peopled — among  paladins,  and  crusaders, 
and  knights-templars  ;  with  Monmouth  and  Percy — with 
Bois-Gilbert  and  Ivanhoc,  and  the  bold  McGregor — with  the 
cavaliers  of  Eupert,  and  the  iron  enthusiasts  of  Fairfax.  As 
Judge  Bullard  remarks  of  him,  he  had  the  talent  of  an  Italian 
improvisatore,  and  could  speak  the  thoughts  of  poetry  with  the 
inspiration  of  oratory^  and  in  the  tones  of  music.  The  fluen- 
cy of  his  speech  was  unbroken — no  syllable  unpronounced — 
not  a  ripple  on  the  smooth  and  brilliant  tide.  Probably  he 
never  hesitated  for  a  word  in  his  life.  His  diction  adapted 
itself,  without  effort,  to  the  thought ;  now  easy  and  familiar, 
now  stately  and  dignified,  now  beautiful  and  various  as  the 
hues  of  the  rainbow,  again  compact,  even  rugged  in  sinewy 
strength,  or  lofty  and  grand  in  eloquent  declamation. 


HON.  S.   S.  PRENTISS.  215 

His  face  and  manner  were  alike  uncommon.  The  turn  of 
the  head  was  like  Byron's  ;  the  face  and  the  action  were  just 
what  the  mind  made  them.  The  excitement  of  the  features, 
the  motions  of  the  head  and  body,  the  gesticulatian  he  used, 
were  all  in  absolute  harmony  with  the  words  you  heard.  You 
saw  and  took  cognizance  of  the  general  effect  only ;  the  par- 
ticular instrumentalities  did  not  strike  you ;  they  certainly 
did  not  call  off  attention  to  themselves.  How  a  countenance 
so  redolent  of  good  humor  as  his  at  times,  could  so  soon  be 
overcast,  and  express  such  intense  bitterness,  seemed  a  mar- 
vel. But  bitterness  and  the  angry  passions  were,  probably, 
as  strongly  implanted  in  him  as  any  other  sentiments  or  qual- 
ities. 

There  was  much  about  him  to  remind  you  of  Byron  :  the 
cast  of  head — the  classic  features — the  fiery  and  restive  na- 
ture— the  moral  and  personal  daring — the  imaginative  and 
poetical  temperament — the  scorn  and  deep  passion — the  de- 
formity of  which  I  have  spoken — the  satiric  wit — the  craving 
for  excitement,  and  the  air  of  melancholy  he  sometimes  wore 
— his  early  neglect,  and  the  imagined  slights  put  upon  him 
in  his  unfriended  youth — the  collisions,  mental  and  physical, 
which  he  had  with  others — his  brilliant  and  sudden  reputa- 
tion, and  the  romantic  interest  which  invested  him,  riiake  up 
a  list  of  correspondencies,  still  further  increased,  alas !  by 
his  untimely  death. 

With  such  abilities  as  we  have  alluded  to,  and  surround- 
ed by  such  circumstances,  he  prosecuted  the  canvass,  making 
himself  the  equal  favorite  of  all  classes.     Old  democrats  were, 


216  SKETCHES    or    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


seen,  with  tears  running  down  tlieir  cheeks,  laughing  hyster 
ically  ;  and  some,  who,  ever  since  the  formation  of  parties, 
had  voted  the  democratic  ticket,  from  coroner  up  to  governor, 
threw  up  their  hats  and  shouted  for  him.  He  was  returned 
to  Congress  by  a  large  majority,  leading  his  colleague,  who 
ran  on  precisely  the  same  question,  more  than  a  thousand 
votes. 

The  political  career  of  Mr.  Prentiss  after  this  time  is 
matter  of  public  history,  and  I  do  not  propose  to  refer  to  it. 

After  his  return  from  Congress,  Mr.  Prentiss  continued 
to  devote  himself  to  his  profession  ;  but,  subsequently  to  1841 
or  1842,  he  was  more  engaged  in  closing  up  his  old  business 
than  in  prosecuting  new.  Some  year  or  two  afterwards,  the 
suit  which  involved  his  fortune  was  determined  against  him 
in  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  ;  and  he  found 
himself  by  this  event,  aggravated  as  it  was  by  his  immense 
liabilities  for  others,  deprived  of  the  accumulations  of  years 
of  successful  practice,  and  again  dependent  upon  his  own  ex- 
ertions for  the  support  of  himself  and  others  now  placed  under 
his  protection.  In  the  mean  time,  the  profession  in  Missis- 
sippi had  become  less  remunerative,  and  more  laborious. 
Bearing  up  with  an  unbroken  spirit  against  adverse  fortune, 
he  determined  to  try  a  new  theatre,  where  his  talents  might 
have  larger  scope.  For  this  purpose,  he  removed  to  the  city 
of  New  Orleans,  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  there.  How 
rapidly  he  rose  to  a  position  among  the  leaders  of  that 
eminent  bar,  and  how  near  he  seemed  to  be  to  its  first 
honors,    the    country   knows.       The   energy  with  which    he 


HON.  S.   S.  PRENTISS,  217 

addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  mastering  the  peculiar 
jurisprudence  of  Louisiana,  and  the  success  with  which  his 
efforts  were  crowned,  are  not  the  least  of  the  splendid 
achievements  of  this  distinguished  gentleman. 

The  danger  is  not  that  we  shall  be  misconstrued  in  regard 
to  the  rude  sketch  we  have  given  of  Mr.  Prentiss  in  any  such 
manner  as  to  leave  the  impression  that  we  are  prejudiced 
against,  or  have  underrated  the  character  of,  that  gentleman. 
We  are  conscious  of  having  written  in  no  unkind  or  unloving 
spirit  of  one  whom,  in  life,  we  honored,  and  whose  memory 
is  still  dear  to  us ;  the  danger  is  elsewhere.  It  is  two- 
fold :  that  we  may  be  supposed  to  have  assigned  to  Prentiss 
a  higher  order  of  abilities  than  he  possessed  ;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  that  we  have  presented,  for  undistinguishing 
admiration,  a  character,  some  of  the  elements  of  which  do  not 
deserve  to  be  admired  or  imitated — and  indeed,  which  are 
of  most  perilous  example,  especially  to  warm-blooded  youth. 
As  to  the  first  objection,  we  feel  sure  that  we  are  not  mis- 
taken, and  even  did  we  distrust  our  own  judgment  we  would 
be  confirmed  by  Sharkey,  Boyd,  Wilkinson,  Guion,  Quitman, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  commendations  of  Clay,  Webster,  and 
Calhoun,  "  the  immortal  three,"  whose  opinions  as  to  Pren- 
tiss's talents  would  be  considered  extravagant  if  they  did  not 
carry  with  them  the  imprimatur  of  their  own  great  names. 
But  we  confess  to  the  danger  implied  in  the  second  sugges- 
tion. With  all  our  admiration  for  Prentiss — much  as  his 
memory  is  endeared  to  us — however  the  faults  of  his  charac- 
ter and  the  irregularities  of  his  life  may  be  palliated  by  the 
10 


218    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

peculiar  circumstances  which  pressed  upon  idiosjncracies  of  . 
temper  and  mind  almost  as  peculiar  as  those  circumstances, 
— it  cannot  be  denied,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  concealed,  that 
the   influence   of   Prentiss    upon   the  men,   especially  upon 
the  young  men  of  this   time   and   association,  was  hurtful. 
True,  he  had  some  attributes  worthy  of  unlimited  admiration, 
and  he  did  some  things  which  the  best  men  might   take  as 
examples  for  imitation.     He  was  a  noble,  whole-souled,  mag- 
nanimous man  :  as  pure  of  honor,  as  lofty  in  chivalric  bear- 
ing as  -the  heroes  of  romance  :  but,  mixed  with  these  bril- 
liant qualities,  were  vices  of  mind  and  habit,  which  those 
fascinating   graces   rendered    doubly   dangerous  :     for   vice 
is  more  easily  copied  than  virtue  :  and  in  the  partnership 
between  virtue  and  vice,  vice  subsidizes  virtue  to  its  uses. 
Prentiss  lacked  regular,  self-denying,  systematic  application. 
He  accomplished  a  great  deal,  but  not  a  great  deal  for  his 
capital :  if  he  did  more  than  most  men,  he  did  less  than  the 
task  of  such  a  man:  if  he  gathered  much,  he  wasted  and  scat 
tered  more.     He  wanted  the  great  essential  element  of  a  true, 
genuine,  moral  greatness  :  there  was  not — above  his  intellect 
— above  his  bright  array  of  strong  powers  and  glittering 
faculties — above  the  fierce  hosts  of  passion  in  his  soul — a 
presiding  spirit  of  Duty.     Life  was  no  trust  to  him  :  it  was 
a  thing  to  be  enjoyed — a  bright  holiday  season — a  gala  day, 
to  be  spent  freely  and  carelessly — a  gift  to  be  decked  out 
with  brilliant  deeds  and  elocpent  words  and  all  gewgaws  of 
fancy — and  to  be  laid  down  bravely  when  the  evening  star 
should  succeed  the  bright  sun,  and  the  dews  begin  to  fall 


HON.  S.  S.  PRENTISS.  219 

softly  upon  the  green  earth.  True,  he  labored  more  than 
most  men :  but  he  labore'd  as  he  frolicked — because  his 
mind  could  not  be  idle,  but  burst  into  work  as  by  the  irre- 
pressible instinct  which  sought  occupation  as  an  outlet  to  in- 
tellectual excitement :  but  what  he  accomplished  was  nothing 
to  the  measure  of  his  powers.  He  studied  more  than 
he  seemed  to  study, — more,  probably,  than  he  cared  to 
have  it  believed  he  studied.  But  he  could  accomplish 
with  only  slender  effort,  the  end  for  which  less  gifted  men 
must  delve,  and  toil,  and  slave.  But  the  imitators,  the  many 
youths  of  warm  passions  and  high  hopes,  ambitious  of  dis- 
tinction— yet  solicitous  of  pleasure — blinded  by  the  glare  of 
Prentiss's  eloquence,  the  corruscations  of  a  wit  and  fancy 
through  which  his  speeches  were  borne  as  a  stately  ship 
through  the  phosphorescent  waves  of  a  tropical  sea — what 
example  was  it  to  them  to  see  the  renown  of  the  Forum,  the 
eloquence  of  the  Hustings,  the  triumphs  of  the  Senate  asso- 
ciated with  the  faro-table,  the  midnight  revel,  the  drunken 
carouse,  the  loose  talk  of  the  board  laden  with  wine  and  cards  ? 
What  Prentiss  effected  they  failed  in  compassing.  Like  a 
chamois  hunter  full  of  life,  and  vigor,  and  courage,  support- 
ed by  the  spear  of  his  genius — potent  as  Ithuriel's — Prentiss 
sprang  up  the  steeps  and  leaped  over  the  chasms  on  his  way  to 
the  mount  where  the  ^'  proud  temple"  shines  above  cloud  and 
storm  ;  but  mediocrity,  in  assaying  to  follow  him,  but  made 
ridiculous  the  enterprise  which  only  such  a  man  with  such 
aids  could  accomplish.  And  even  he,  not  wisely  or  well:  the 
penalty  came  at  last,  as  it  must  ever  come  for  a  violation  of 


220  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

natural  and  moral  laws.  He  lived  in  pain  and  poverty  droop- 
ing in  spirit,  exhausted  in  mind*  and  body,  to  lament  that 
wasting  of  life,  and  health,  and  genius,  which,  unwasted,  in 
the  heyday  of  existence,  and  in  the  meridian  lustre  of  his  un- 
rivalled powers,  might  have  opened  for  himself  and  for  his 
country  a  career  of  usefulness  and  just  renown  scarcely  par- 
alleled by  the  most  honored  and  loved  of  all  the  land. 

If  to  squander  thus  such  rare  gifts  were  a  grievous  fault, 
grievously  hath  this  erring  child  of  genius  answered  it. 
But  painfully  making  this  concession,  forced  alone  by  the 
truth,  it  is  with  pleasure  we  can  say,  that,  with  this  deduc- 
tion from  Prentiss's  claims  to  reverence  and  honor,  there  yet 
remains  so  much  of  force  and  of  brilliancy  in  the  character 
— so  much  that  is  honorable,  and  noble,  and  generous — so 
much  of  a  manhood  whose  robust  and  masculine  virtues  are 
set  off  by  the  wild  and  lovely  graces  that  attempered  and 
adorned  its  strength,  that  we  feel  drawn  to  it  not  less  to  ad- 
mire than  to  love. 

In  the  midst  of  his  budding  prospects,  rapidly  ripening 
into  fruition,  insidious  disease  assailed  him.  It  was  long 
hoped  that  the  close  and  fibrous  system,  which  had,  seem- 
ingly, defied  all  the  laws  of  nature,  would  prove  superior  to 
this  malady.  His  unconquerable  will  bore  him  up  long 
against  its  attacks.  Indeed  it  seemed  that  only  death  itself 
could  subdue  that  fiery  and  unextinguishable  energy.  He 
made  his  last  great  efi'ort,  breathing  in  its  feeble  accents  but 
a  more  touching  and  affecting  pathos,  and  a  more  persuasive 
eloquence,  in  behalf  of  Lopez,  charged  with  the  offence  of 


HON.  S.  S.  PRENTISS.  221 

fitting  out  an  expedition  against  Cuba.  So  weak  was  he, 
that  he  was  compelled  to  deliver  it  in  a  sitting  posture,  and 
was  carried,  after  its  delivery,  exhausted  from  the  bar. 

Not  long  after  this  time,  in  a  state  of  complete  prostra- 
tion, he  was  taken,  in  a  steamboat,  from  New- Orleans  to 
Natchez,  under  the^  care  of  some  faithful  friends.  The  opi- 
ates given  him,  and  the  exhaustion  of  nature,  had  dethroned 
his  imperial  reason ;  and  the  great  advocate  talked  wildly 
of  some  trial  in  which  he  supposed  he  was  engaged.  When 
he  reached  Natchez,  he  was  taken  to  the  residence  of  a  re- 
lation, and  from  that  time,  only  for  a  moment,  did  a  glance 
of  recognition  fall — lighting  up  for  an  instant  his  pallid  fea- 
tures— upon  his  wife  and  children,  weeping  around  his  bed. 

On   the  morning  of died  this  remarkable  man,  in  the 

42d  year  of  his  age.  What  he  was^  we  know.  What  he 
might  have  heen^  after  a  mature  age  and  a  riper  wisdom,  we 
cannot  tell.  But  that  he  was  capable  of  commanding  the 
loftiest  heights  of  fame,  and  marking  his  name  and  charac- 
ter upon  the  age  he  lived  in,  we  verily  believe. 

But  he  has  gone.  He  died,  and  lies  buried  near  that 
noble  river  which  first,  when  a  raw  Yankee  boy,  caught 
his  poetic  eye,  and  stirred,  by  its  aspect  of  grandeur,  his 
sublime  imagination :  upon  whose  shores  first  fell  his  burn- 
ing and  impassioned  words  as  they  aroused  the  rapturous 
applause  of  his  astonished  auditors.  And  long  will  that 
noble  river  flow  out  its  tide  into  the  gulf,  ere  the  roar  of 
its  current  shall  mingle  with  the  tones  of  such  eloquence 
again — eloquence  as  full  and  majestic,  as  resistless  and  sub- 


222  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

lime,  and  as  wild  in  its  sweep  as  its  own  sea-like  floodj 

"  the  mightiest  river 

Rolls  mingling  with  his  fame  for  ever." 

The  tidings  of  his  death  came  like  wailing  over  the  State, 
and  we  all  heard  them,  as  the  toll  of  the  bell  for  a  brother's 
funeral.  The  chivalrous  felt,  when  they  heard  that  "  young 
Harry  Percy's  spur  was  cold,"  that  the  world  had  somehow 
grown  commonplace ;  and  the  men  of  wit  and  genius,  or 
those  who  could  appreciate  such  qualities  in  others,  looking 
over  the  surviving  bar,  exclaimed  with  a  sigh — 

*  The  blaze  of  wit,  the  flash  of  bright  intelligence, 
The  beam  of  social  eloquence, 
Sunk  with  his  sun." 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  223 


THE  BAR  OP  THE   SOUTH-WEST. 

The  citizens  of  an  old  country  are  very  prone  to  consider  the 
people  of  a  newly  settled  State  or  Territory  as  greatly  their 
inferiors  :  just  as  old  men  are  apt  to  consider  those  younger 
than  themselves,  and  who  have  grown  up  under  their  obser- 
vation, as  their  inferiors.  It  is  a  very  natural  sentiment. 
It  is  flattering  to  pride,  and  it  tickles  the  vanity  of  senility 
— individual  and  State — to  assign  this  status  of  elevation 
to  self,  and  this  consequent  depression  to  others.  Accord- 
ingly, the  Englishman  looks  upon  the  American  as  rather  a 
green-horn,  gawky  sort  of  a  fellow,  infinitely  below  the  stand- 
ard of  John  Bull  in  every  thing,  external  and  internal,  of 
character  and  of  circumstance  ;  and  no  amount  of  licking 
can  thrash  the  idea  out  of  him.  As  Swedenborg  says  of 
some  religious  dogmas  held  by  certain  bigots — it  is  glued 
to  his  brains.  So  it  is  with  our  own  people.  The  Bosto- 
nian  looks  down  upon  the  Virginian — the  Virginian  on  the 
Tennesseeian — the  Tennesseeian  on  the  Alabamian — the  Al- 
abamian  on  the  Mississippian — the  Mississippian  on  the 
Louisianian — the  Louisianian  on  the  Texian — the  Texian  on 


224  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

New  MexicOj  and,  we  suppose,  New  Mexico  on  Pandemo- 
nium. 

It  may  be  one  of  the  perversions  of  patriotism,  to  create 
and  foster  invidious  and  partial  discriminations  between  dif- 
ferent countries,  and  -between  different  sections  of  the  same 
country  :  and  especially  does  this  prejudice  exist  and  deepen 
with  a  people  stationary  and  secluded  in  habit  and  position. 
But  travel,  a  broader  range  of  inquiry  and  observation,  more 
intimate  associations  and  a  freer  correspondence,  begetting 
larger  and  more  cosmopolitan  views  of  men  and  things,  serve 
greatly  to  soften  these  prejudices,  even  where  they  are  not 
entirely  removed.  That  there  is  some  good  country  even 
bej^ond  the  Chinese  wall,  and  that  all  not  within  that  bar- 
rier are  not  quite  "  outside  barbarians,"  the  Celestials  them- 
selves are  beginning  to  acknowledge. 

There  is  no  greater  error  than  that  which  assigns  inferi 
ority  to  the'bar  of  the  South-West,  in  comparison  with  that 
of  any  other  section  of  the  same  extent  in  the  United  States. 
Indeed,  it  is  our  honest  conviction  that  the  profession  in  the 
States  of  Tennessee,  Alabama,  Mississippi  and  Louisiana, 
are  not  equalled,  as  a  whole,  by  the  same  number  of  law- 
yers in  any  other  quarter  of  the  Union, — certainly  in  no 
other  quarter  where  commerce  is  no  more  various  and  large- 
ly pursued. 

The  reasons  for  this  opinion  we  proceed  to  give.  The 
most  conclusive  mode  of  establishing  this  proposition  would 
probably  be  by  comparison ;  but  this,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  is  impossible.     The  knowledge  of  facts  and  men  is 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  225 

wanting,  and  even  if  possessed  by  any  capable  of  institut- 
ing the  comparison,  the  decision  would,  at  last,  be  only  an 
opinion,  and  would  carry  but  little  weight,  even  if  the  capa 
city  and  fairness  of  the  critic  were  duly  ai&thenticated  to  the 
reader. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  great  men  of  every  State 
in  the  Union,  were  those  men  who  figured  about  the  time  of 
the  organization  and  the  settling  down  of  their  several  judi- 
cial  systems  into  definite  shape  and  character.  Not  taking 
into  the  account  the  Revolutionary  era — unquestionably  the 
most  brilliant  intellectual  period  of  our  history — let  us  look 
to  that  period  which  succeeded  the  turmoil,  embarrassment 
and  confusion  of  the  Revolution,  and  of  the  times  of  civil 
agitation  and  contention  next  following,  and  out  of  which 
arose  our  present  constitution.  The  first  thing  our  fathers 
did  was  to  get  a  country  ;  then  to  fix  on  it  the  character 
of  government  it  was  to  have ;  then  to  make  laws  to 
carry  it  on  and  achieve  its  objects.  The  men,  as  a  class,  who 
did  all  this,  were  lawyers  :  their  labors  in  founding  and  start- 
ing into  motion  our  constitutions  and  laws  were  great  and 
praiseworthy  :  but  after  setting  the  government  agoing,  there 
was  much  more  to  do  ;  and  this  was  to  give  the  right  direc- 
tion and  impress  to  its  jurisprudence.  The  Statutes  of  a 
free  country  are  usually  but  a  small  part  of  the  body  of  its 
law — and  the  common  law  of  England,  itself  but  a  judicial 
enlargement  and  adaptation  of  certain  vague  and  rude  prin- 
ciples of  jurisprudence  to  new  wants,  new  necessities  and 
exigencies,  was  a  light  rather  than  a  guide,  to  the  judges  of 


225  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

our  new  systems,  called  to  administer  justice  under  new  and 
widely  different  conditions  and  circumstances.  The  greatest 
talent  was  necessary  for  these  new  duties.  It  required  the 
nicest  discrimination  and  the  soundest  judgment  to  determine 
what  parts  of  the  British  system  were  opposed  to  the  genius 
of  the  new  constitution,  and  what  parts  were  inapplicable  by 
reason  of  new  relations  or  differing  circumstances.  The 
great  judicial  era  of  the  United  States — equally  great  in  bar 
and  bench — was  the  first  quarter  of  this  century.  And  it  is 
a  singular  coincidence  that  this  was  the  case  in  nearly  every, 
if  not  in  every.  State.  Those  were  the  days  of  Marshall  and 
Story  and  Parsons,  of  Kent  and  Thompson  and  Koane,  of 
Smith  and  Wythe  and  Jay,  and  many  other  fixed  planets  of 
the  judicial  system,  while  the  whole  horizon,  in  every  part 
of  the  extended  cycle,  was  lit  up  by  stars  worthy  to  revolve 
around  and  add  light  to  such  luminaries.  Mr.  "Webster  de- 
clared that  the  ablest  competition  he  had  met  with,  in  his 
long  professional  career,  was  that  he  encountered  at  the  rude 
provincial  bar  of  back-woods  New  Hampshire  in  his  earlier 
practice. 

And  this  same  remarkable  preeminence  has  characterized 
the  bar  of  every  new  State  when,  or  shortly  after  emerging 
from,  its  territorial  condition  and  first  crude  organization ; 
the  States  of  Tennessee,  Kentucky,  Alabama,  Mississippi 
and  Louisiana  forcibly  illustrate  this  truth,  and  we  have  no 
question  but  that  Texas  and  California  are  affording  new  ex- 
positions of  its  correctness. 

A  fact  so  uniform  in  its  existence,  must  have  some  solid 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  227 

principle  for  its  cause.  This  principle  we  shall  seek  to  ascer- 
tain. It  is  the  same  influeuce,  in  a  modified  form,  which  partly 
discovers  and  partly  creates  great  men  in  times  of  revolution. 
Men  are  fit  for  more  and  higher  uses  than  they  are  commonly 
put  to.  The  idea  that  genius  is  self-conscious  of  its  powers, 
and  that  men  naturally  fall  into  the  position  for  which  they 
are  fitted,  we  regard  as  by  no  means  an  universal  truth,  if 
any  truth  at  all.  Who  believes  that  Washington  ever  dream- 
ed of  his  capacity  for  the  great  mission  he  so  nobly  accom- 
plished, before  with  fear  and  trembling,  he  started  out  on  its 
fulfilment  ?  Probably  the  very  ordeal  through  which  he 
passed  to  greatness  purified  and  qualified  him  for  the  self-de- 
nial and  self-conquest,  the  patience  and  the  fortitude,  which 
made  its  crowning  glory.  To  be  great,  there  must  be  a  great 
work  to  be  done.  Talents  alone  are  not  distinction.  For 
the  Archimedean  work,,  there  must  be  a  fulcrum  as  well 
as  a  lever.  Great  abilities  usually  need  a  great  stimulus. 
What  dormant  genius  there  is  in  every  country,  may  be 
known  by  the  daily  examples  of  a  success,  of  which  there  was 
neither  early  promise  nor  early  expectation. 

In  a  new  country  the  political  edifice,  like  all  the  rest, 
must  be  built  from  the  ground  up.  Where  nothing  is  at 
hand,  every  thing  must  be  made.  There  is  work  for  all  and 
a  necessity  for  all  to  work.  There  is  almost  perfect  equality. 
All  have  an  even  start  and  an  equal  chance.  There  are  few 
or  no  factitious  advantages.  The  rewards  of  labor  and  skill 
are  not  only  certain  to  come,  but  they  are  certain  to  come  at 
once.     There  is  no  long  and  tedious  novitiate.     Talent  and 


228    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  GF  ALABAMA. 

energy  are  not  put  in  quarantine,  and  there  is  no  privileged 
inspector  to  place  his  imprimatur  of  acceptance  or  rejec 
tion  upon  them.  An  emigrant  community  is  necessarily  a 
practical  community  ;  wants  come  before  luxuries — things 
take  precedence  of  words ;  the  necessaries  that  support  life 
precede  the  arts  and  elegancies  that  embellish  it.  A  man 
of  great  parts  may  miss  his  way  to  greatness  by  frittering 
away  his  powers  upon  non-essentials — upon  the  style  and 
finish  of  a  thing  rather  than  upon  its  strength  and  utility^ 
upon  modes  rather  than  upon  ends.  To  direct  strength 
aright,  the  cim  is  as  essential  as  the  power.  But  above  all 
things,  success  more  depends  upon  self-confidence  than  any 
thing  else ;  talent  must  go  in  partnership  with  will  or  it  can- 
not do  a  business  of  profit.  Erasmus  and  Melancthon  were 
the  equals  of  Luther  in  the  closet ;  but  where  else  were 
they  his  equals  ?  And  where  can  a  man  get  this  self-reliance 
so  well  as  in  a  new  country,  where  he  is  thrown  upon  his 
own  resources ;  where  his  only  friends  are  his  talents ; 
where  he  sees  energy  leap  at  once  into  prominence  ;  where 
those  only  are  above  him  whose  talents  are  above  his ; 
where  there  is  no  prestige  of  rank,  or  ancestry,  or 
wealth,  or  past  reputation — and  no  family  influence,  or  de- 
pendants, or  patrons ;  where  the  stranger  of  yesterday  is 
the  man  of  mark  to-day  ;  where  a  single  speech  may  win 
position,  to  be  lost  by  a  failure  the  day  following ;  and 
where  amidst  a  host  of  competitors  in  an  open  field  of  ri- 
valry, every  man  of  the  same  profession  enters  the  course 
with  a  race-horse  emulation,  to  win  the  prize  which  is  glitter- 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  229 

ing  within  sight  of  the  rivals.  There  is  no  stopping  in  such 
a  crowd  :  he  who  does  not  go  ahead  is  run  over  and  trodden 
down.  How  much  of  success  waits  on  opportunity  !  True, 
the  highest  energy  may  make  opportunity ;  but  how  much 
of  real  talent  is  associated  only  with  that  energy  which  ap- 
propriates, but  which  is  not  able  to  create,  occasions  for  its 
display.  Does  any  one  doubt  that  if  Daniel  "Webster  had 
accepted  the  §1,500  clerkship  in  New  Hampshire,  he  would 
not  have  been  Secretary  of  State  ?  Or  if  Henry  Clay  had 
been  so  unfortunate  as  to  realize  his  early  aspirations  of 
earning  in  some  backwoods  county  his  $333  33  per  annum, 
is  it  so  clear  that  Senates  would  have  hung  upon  his  lips,  or 
Supreme  Courts  been  enlightened  by  his  wisdom  ? 

The  exercise  of  our  faculties  not  merely  better  enables 
us  to  use  them — it  strengthens  them  as  much ;  the  strength 
lies  as  much  in  the  exercise  as  in  the  muscle ;  and  the  earlier 
the  exercise,  after  the  muscle  can  stand  it,  the  greater  the 
strength. 

Unquestionably  there  is  something  in  the  atmosphere  of 
a  new  people  which  refreshes,  vivifies  and  vitalizes  thought, 
and  gives  freedom,  range  and  energy  to  action.  It  is  the 
natural  effect  of  the  law  of  liberty.  An  old  society  weaves 
a  network  of  restraints  and  habits  around  a  man ;  the 
chains  of  habitude  and  mode  and  fashion  fetter  him :  he  is 
cramped  by  influence,  prejudice,  custom,  opinion;  he  lives 
under  a  feeling  of  sitrveilance  and  under  a  sense  of  espion- 
age. He  takes  the  law  from  those  above  him.  Wealth, 
family,  influence,  class,   caste,  fashion,  coterie  and  adventi- 


230  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

tious  circumstances  of  all  sorts,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
trammel  him;  he  acts  not  so  much  from  his  own  will  and  in 
his  own  way,  as  from  the  force  of  these  arbitrary  influences ; 
his  thoughts  and  actions  do  not  leap  out  directly  from  their 
only  legitimate  head-spring,  but  flow  feebly  in  serpentine  and 
impeded  currents,  through  and  around  all  these  impediments. 
The  character  necessarily  becomes,  in  some  sort,  artificial 
and  conventional  ;  less  bold,  simple,  direct,  earnest  and  natu- 
ral, and,  therefore,  less  efi'ective. 

What  a  man  does  well  he  must  do  with  freedom.  He 
can  no  more  speak  in  trammels  than  he  can  walk  in  chains ; 
and  he  must  learn  to  think  freely  before  he  can  speak  freely. 
He  must  have  his  audience  in  his  mind  before  he  has  it  in 
his  eye.  He  must  hold  his  eyes  level  upon  the  court  or  jury 
— not  raised  in  reverence  nor  cast  down  in  fear.  For  the 
nonce,  the  speaker  is  the  teacher.  He  must  not  be  sifting 
his  discourse  for  deprecating  epithets  or  propitiating  terms, 
nor  be  seeking  to  avoid  being  taken  up  and  shaken  by  some 
rough  senior,  nor  be  afraid  of  being  wearisome  to  the  audi- 
ence or  disrespectful  to  superiors  :  bethinking  him  of  expo- 
sure and  dreading  the  laugh  or  the  sneer,  when  the  bold 
challenge,  the  quick  retort,  the  fresh  thought,  the  indignant 
crimination,  the  honest  fervor,  and  the  vigorous  argument 
are  needed  for  his  cause.  To  illustrate  what  we  mean — let 
us  take  the  case  of  a  young  lawyer  just  come  to  the  bar  of 
an  old  State.  Let  us  suppose  that  he  has  a  case  to  argue. 
He  is  a  young  man  of  talent,  of  course — all  are.  Who 
make  his  audience  ?      The  old  judge,  who,  however  mild  a 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  231 

mannered  man  he  may  be,  the  youth  has  looked  on,  from  his 
childhood,  as  the  most  awful  of  all  the  sons  of  men.  Who 
else  ?  The  old  seniors  whom  he  has  been  accustomed  to  re- 
gard as  the  ablest  and  wisest  lawyers  in  the  world,  and  the 
most  terrible  satirists  that  ever  snapped  sinews  and  dislocat- 
ed joints  and  laid  bare  nerves  on  the  rack  of  their  merciless 
wit.  The  jury  of  sober-sided  old  codgers,  who  have  known 
him  from  a  little  boy,  and  have  never  looked  on  him  except 
as  a  boy,  most  imprudently  diverted  by  parental  vanity  from 
the  bellows  or  the  plough-handles,  to  be  fixed  as  a  cannister 
to  the  dog's  tail  that  fag-ends  the  bar  : — that  jury  look  upon 
him, — as  he  rises  stammering  and  floundering  about,  like  a 
badly-trained  pointer,  running  in  several  directions,  seeking 
to  strike  the  cold  trail  of  an  idea  that  had  run  through  his 
brai"n  in  the  enthusiasm  of  ambitious  conception  the  night 
before : — these,  his  judges,  look  at  him  or  from  him  with 
mingled  pity  and  wonder ;  his  fellow-students  draw  back 
from  fear  of  being  brought  into  misprision  and  complicity  of 
getting  him  into  this  insane  presumption  ;  and,  after  a  few 
awkward  attempts  to  propitiate  the  senior,  who  is  to  follow 
him,  he  catches  a  view  of  the  countenances  of  the  old  fogies 
in  whose  quiet  sneers  he  reads  his  death-warrant ;  and,  at 
length,  he  takes  his  seat,  as  the  crowd  rush  up  to  the  vete- 
ran who  is  to  do  him — like  a  Spanish  rabble  to  an  auto  da 
fe.  What  are  his  feelings  ?  What  or  who  can  describe  his 
mortification  ?  What  a  vastation  of  pride  and  self-esteem 
that  was  ?^The  speech  he  made  was  not  the  speech  he  had 
conceived.    The  speech  he  had  in  him  he  did  not  deliver  ;  he 


232     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

"  aborted  "  it,  and,  instead  of  the  anticipated  pride  and  joy  of 
maternity,  he  feels  only  the  guilt  and  the  shame  of  infanticide. 

Alack- a-day  !  Small  is  the  sum  of  sympathy  which  is 
felt  by  the  mass  of  men  for  the  woes  and  wounds  of  juve 
nile  vanity  and  especially  for  the  woes  of  professional  vanity. 
From  the  time  of  Swift,  who  pilloried  Bettsworth  to  eter 
nal  ridicule,  and  of  Cobbett,  who,  with  rude  contempt, 
scoffed  at  the  idea  of  being  blamed  for  ^'  crushing  a  law- 
yer in  the  egg^^^  but  few  tears  of  commiseration  have  been 
shed  for  the  poor  "  Wind-seller,"  cut  down  in  his  raw  and 
callow  youth.  And,  yet,  I  cannot  help,  for  the  soul  of  me, 
the  weakness  which  comes  into  my  eyes,  when  I  see,  as  I 
have  seen,  a  gallant  youth,  full  of  ardor  and  hope,  let  down, 
a  dead  failure, — on  his  first  trial  over  the  rough  course  of 
the  law.  The  head  hung  down — the  cowed  look  of  timid 
deprecation — the  desponding  carriage — tell  a  story  of  deep 
wounds  of  spirit — of  hopes  overcast,  and  energies  subdued, 
and  pride  humbled — which  touches  me  deeply.  I  picture 
him  in  the  recesses  of  his  chamber,  wearing  through  the 
weary  watches  of  the  night- — grinding  his  teeth  in  impatient 
anguish, — groaning  sorrowfully  and  wetting  his  pillow  with 
bitter  tears — cursing  his  folly,  and  infatuation,  and  his  hard 
fate — envying  the  hod-carrier  the  sure  success  of  his  humbler 
lot,  and  his  security  against  the  ill  fortune  of  a  shameful  fail- 
ure, where  failure  was  exposed  presumption. 

I  have  felt,  in  the  intensity  of  my  concern  for  such  an 
one,  like  hazarding  the  officiousness  of  going  to  mm,  and  ad- 
vising him  to  abandon  the  hang-dog  trade,  and  hide  his 
shame  in  some  obscurer  and  honest  pursuit. 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  233 

.Andj  rough  senior,  my  dear  brother,  think  of  these 
things  when  your  fingers  itch  to  wool  one  of  the  tender  neo- 
phytes— and  forbear.  I  crave  no  quarter  for  the  lawyer, 
full-grown  or  half-grown  ;  he  can  stand  peppering — it  is  his 
vocation,  Hal — he  is  paid  for  it;  but  for  the  lawyerling  I 
plead ;  and  to  my  own  urgency  in  his  behalf,  I  add  the 
pathetic  plea  of  the  gentle  Elia  in  behalf  of  the  roast-pig — 
"  Barbecue  your  whole  hogs  to  your  palate,  steep  them  in 
shalots,  stuff  them  with  the  plantations  of  the  rank  and 
guilty  garlic  ;  you  cannot  poison  them  or  make  them  stronger 
than  they  are — but  consider,  lie  is  a  weakling — a  flower." 

But  revenons  a  nos  moiitons. 

But  suppose  the  debutant  does  better  than  this ;  suppose 
he  lets  himself  out  fully  and  fearlessly,  and  has  something 
in  him  to  let  out ;  and  suppose  he  escapes  the  other  danger 
of  being  ruined  by  presumption,  real  or  supposed  ;  he  is 
duly  complimented  : — '^  he  is  a  young  man  of  promise — 
there  is  some  '  come  out '  to  that  young  man  ;  some  day  he 
will  be  something — if — if  "  two  or  three  peradventures  don't 
happen  to  him.  If  he  is  proud, — as  to  be  able  to  have  ac- 
complished all  this  he  must  be, — such  compliments  grate 
more  harshly  than  censure.  He  goes  back  to  the  office ; 
but  where  are  the  clients  ?  They  are  a  slow-moving  race, 
and  confidence  in  a  young  lawyer  "  is  a  plant  of  slow  growth." 
Does  he  get  his  books  and  ''  scorn  delights  and  live  labori- 
ous days,"  for  the  prospect  of  a  remote  and  contingent,  and 
that  at  best,  but  a  poorly  remunerating  success  ?  Does  ho 
cool  his   hot  blood  in  the  ink  of  the  Black-letter,  and  spin 


234  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

bis  toils  with  the  industr}-  and  forethought  of  the  patient 
spider  that  is  to  be  remunerated  next  flj-season,  for  her ' 
pains,  and  sit,  like  that  collecting  attorney,  at  the  door  of 
the  house,  waiting  and  watching  until  theru^  for  prey  ?  If 
so,  he  is  a  hero  indeed ;  but  what  years  of  the  flower  of  his 
life  are  not  spent  in  waiting  for  the  prosperous  future,  in  the 
vague  preparation  which  is  not  associated  with,  or  stimulated 
b}^,  a  present  use  for,  and  direct  application  to  a  tangible 
purpose,  of  what  he  learns  !  Where  one  man  of  real  merit 
succeeds,  how  many  break  down  in  the  training;  and  even 
wliere  success  is  won,  how  much  less  that  success  than  where 
talent,  like  Pitt's,  takes  its  natural  position  at  the  start,  and, 
stimulated  to  its  utmost  exercise,  fights  its  way  from  its  first 
strivings  to  its  ultimate  triumphs — each  day  a  day  of  ac- 
tivity and  every  week  a  trial  of  skill  and  strength  ;  learning 
all  of  law  that  is  evolved  from  its  practice,  and  forced  to 
know  something,  at  least,  of  what  the  books  teach  of  it ; 
and  getting  that  larger  and  better  knowledge  of  men  which 
books  cannot  impart,  and  that  still  more  important  self- 
knowledge,  of  which  experience  is  the  only  schoolmaster. 

In  the  new  country,  there  are  no  seniors :  the  bar  is  all 
Young  America.  If  the  old  fogies  come  in,  they  must  stand 
in  the  class  with  the  rest,  if,  indeed,  they  do  not  "go  foot." 
There  were  many  evils  and  disadvantages  arising  from  this 
want  of  standards  and  authority  in  and  over  the  bar — many 
and  great  —  but  they  were  not  of  long  continuance,  and  were 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  opposite  benefits. 

It  strikes  me  that  the  career  of  Warren  Hastings  illus- 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  235 

tratcs  my  idea  of  the  influence  of  a  new  country  and  of  a 
new  and  responsible  position  over  the  character  of  men  of 
vigorous  parts.  In  India,  new  to  English  settlement  and 
institutions,  he  well  earned  the  motto,  '^  Mens  cequa  in 
arduis,''''  inscribed  over  his  portrait  in  the  council  chamber 
of  Calcutta  :  but  after  he  returned  to  England,  amidst  the 
difficulties  of  his  impeachment,  his  policy  ignored  all  his 
claims  to  greatness,  had  it  alone  been  considered :  the  genius 
that  expatiated  over  and  permeated  his  broad  policy  on  the 
plains  of  Hindostan  seemed  stifled  in  the  conventional  at 
mosphere  of  St.  Stephen's. 

While  we  think  that  the  influence  of  the  new  country 
upon  the  intellect  of  the  professional  emigre  was  highly 
beneficial,  we  speak,  we  hope,  with  a  becoming  distrust,  of 
its  moral  effect.  "We  might,  in  a  debating  \club,  tolerate 
some  scruple  of  a  doubt,  whether  this  violent  disruption  of 
family  ties  —  this  sudden  abandonment  of  the  associations 
and  influence  of  country  and  of  home — of  the  restraints  of 
old  authority  and  of  opinion — and  this  sudden  plunge  into 
the  whirling  vortex  of  a  new  and  seething  population — in 
which  the  elements  were  curiously  and  variously  mixed  with 
free  manners  and  not  over-puritanic  conversation  —  were 
efficient  causes  of  moral  improvement :  we  can  tolerate  a 
doubt  as  to  whether  the  character  of  a  young  man  might  not 
receive  something  less  than  a  pious  impression,  under  these 
circumstances  of  temptation,  when  that  character  was  in  its 
most  malleable  and  fusible  state.  But  we  leave  this  moral 
problem  to  be  solved  by  those  better  able  to  manage  it,  with 


236  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

this  single  observation,  that  if  the  subject  were  able  to 
stand  the  trial,  his  moral  constitution,  like  his  physical  after 
an  attack  of  yellow  fever,  would  be  apt  to  be  the  better  for 
it.  We  cannot,  however,  in  conscience,  from  what  we  have 
experienced  of  a  new  country  with  "  flush  fixins  "  annexed, 
advise  the  experiment.  We  have  known  it  to  fail.  And 
probably  more  of  character  would  have  been  lost  if  more 
had  been  put  at  hazard. 

In  trying  to  arrive  at  the  character  of  the  South-West- 
ern  bar,  its  opportunities  and  advantages  for  improvement 
are  to  be  considered.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that,  in 
the  United  States  at  least,  no  bar  ever  had  such,  or  so 
many  :  it  might  be  doubted  if  they  were  ever  enjoyed  to  the 
same  extent  before.  Consider  that  the  South-West  was  the 
focus  of  an  emigration  greater  than  any  portion  of  the  coun- 
try ever  attracted,  at  least,  until  the  golden  magnet  drew 
its  thousands  to  the  Pacific  coast.  But  the  character  of  the 
emigrants  was  not  the  same.  Most  of  the  gold-seekers  were 
mere  gold-diggers — not  bringing  property,  but  coming  to 
take  it  away.  Most  of  those  coming  to  the  South- West 
brought  property  —  many  of  them  a  great  deal.  Nearly 
every  man  was  a  speculator ;  at  any  rate,  a  trader.  The 
treaties  with  the  Indians  had  brought  large  portions  of  the 
States  of  Alabama,  Mississippi  and  Louisiana  into  mar- 
ket ;  and  these  portions,  comprising  some  of  the  most  fertile 
lands  in  the  world,  were  settled  up  in  a  hurry.  The  Indians 
claimed  lands  under  these  treaties — the  laws  granting  pre- 
emption rights  to  settlers  on  the  public  lands,  were  to  be 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  237 

construed,  and  the  litigation  growing  out  of  them  settled, 
the  public  lands  afforded  a  field  for  unlimited  speculation, 
and  combinations  of  purchasers,  partnerships,  land  compa- 
nies, agencies,  and  the  like,  gave  occasion  to  much  difficult 
litigation  in  after  times.  Negroes  were  brought  into  th 
country  in  large  numbers  and  sold  mostly  upon  credit,  and 
bills  of  exchange  taken  for  the  price ;  the  negroes  in  many 
instances  were  unsound — to  some  the  title  was  defec- 
tive ;  some  falsely  pretended  to  be  unsound,  and  various 
questions  as  to  the  liability  of  parties  on  the  warranties  and 
the  bills,  furnished  an  important  addition  to  the  litigation : 
many  land  titles  were  defective ;  property  was  brought  from 
other  States  clogged  with  trusts,  limitations,  and  uses,  to  be 
construed  according  to  the  laws  of  the  State  from  which  it 
was  brought :  claims  and  contracts  made  elsewhere  to  be  en- 
forced here  :  universal  indebtedness,  which  the  hardness  of 
the  times  succeeding  made  it  impossible  for  many  men  to 
pay,  and  desirable  for  all  to  escape  paying :  hard  and  ruin- 
ous bargains,  securityships,  judicial  sales  ;  a  general  loose- 
ness, ignorance,  and  carelessness  in  the  public  officers  in 
doing  business  ;  new  statutes  to  be  construed ;  official  lia- 
bilities, especially  those  of  sheriffs,  to  be  enforced;  banks, 
the  laws  governing  their  contracts,  proceedings  against 
them  for  forfeiture  of  charter ;  trials  of  right  of  property ; 
an  elegant  assortment  of  frauds  constructive  and  actual ;  and 
the  whole  system  of  chancery  law  and  admiralty  proceed- 
ings ;  in  short,  all  the  flood-gates  of  litigation  were  opened, 
and  the  pent-up  tide  let  loose  upon  the  country.     And  such 


238  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TDIES    OF    ALABAMA. 

a  criminal  docket !  What  country  could  boast  more  largely 
of  its  crimes  ?  What  more  splendid  role  of  felonies ! 
What  more  terrific  murders  !  What  more  gorgeous  bank 
robberies  !  What  more  niagnificent  operations  in  the  land 
offices  !  Such  McGregor-like  levies  of  black  mail,  individual 
and  corporate  !  Such  superb  forays  on  the  treasuries,  State 
and  National !  Such  expert  transfers  of  balances  to  undis- 
covered bournes  !  Such  august  defalcations  !  Such  flour- 
ishes of  rhetoric  on  ledgers  auspicious  of  gold  which  had 
departed  for  ever  from  the  vault !  And  in  Indian  affairs  !  — 
the  very  mention  is  suggestive  of  the  poetry  of  theft — the 
romance  of  a  wild  and  weird  larceny  !  What  sublime  con- 
ceptions of  super- Spartan  roguery  !  Swindling  Indians  by 
the  nation  1  [Spirit  of  Falstaff^  rap  !)  Stealing  their  land 
by  the  township !  {Dick  Tu?pin  and  Jonathan  Wild  I 
tip  the  table  !)  Conducting  the  nation  to  the  Mississippi 
river,  stripping  them  to  the  flap,  and  bidding  them  God 
speed  as  they  went  howling  into  the  Western  wilderness  to 
the  friendly  agency  of  some  sheltering  Suggs  duly  empow 
ered  to  receive  their  coming  annuities  and  back  rations ! 
What's  Hounslow  heath  to  this  ?  Who  Carvajal  ?  Who 
Count  Boulbon  ? 

And  all  these  merely  forerunners,  ushering  in  the  Mil- 
lennium of  an  accredited,  official  Repudiation;  and  it  but 
vaguely  suggestive  of  what  men  could  do  when  opportunity 
and  capacity  met  —  as  shortly  afterwards  they  did  —  under 
the  Upas-shade  of  a  perjury -breathing  bankrupt  law!  —  But 
Are  forbear.     The  contemplation  of  such  hyperboles  of  men 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  289 

daclty  stretclies  the  imagination  to  a  dangerous  tension. 
There  was  no  end  to  the  amount  and  variety  of  lawsuits, 
and  interests  involved  in  every  complication  and  of  enor- 
mous value  were  to  be  adjudicated.  The  lawyers  were  com- 
pelled to  work,  and  were  forced  to  learn  the  rules  that  were 
involved  in  all  this  litigation. 

Many  members  of  the  bar,  of  standing  and  character, 
from  the  other  States,  flocked  in  to  put  their  sickles  into 
this  abundant  harvest.  Virginia,  Kentucky,  North  Carolina 
and  Tennessee  contributed  more  of  these  than  any  other  four 
States  ;  but  every  State  had  its  representatives. 

Consider,  too,  that  the  country  was  not  so  new  as  the 
practice.  Every  State  has  its  peculiar  tone  or  physiognomy, 
so  to  speak,  of  jurisprudence  imparted  to  it,  more  or  less, 
by  the  character  and  temper  of  its  bar.  That  had  yet  to  be 
given.  Many  questions  decided  in  older  States,  and  differ- 
ently decided  in  different  States,  were  to  be  settled  here ; 
and  a  new  state  of  things,  peculiar  in  their  nature,  called 
for  new  rules  or  a  modification  of  old  ones.  The  members 
of  the  bar  from  different  States  had  brought  their  various 
notions,  impressions  and  knowledge  of  their  own  judicature 
along  with  them ;  and  thus  all  the  points,  dicta,  rulings,  off- 
shoots, quirks  and  quiddities  of  all  the  law,  and  lawing,  and 
law-mooting  of  all  the  various  judicatories  and  their  satel- 
lites, were  imported  into  the  new  country  and  tried  on  the 
new  jurisprudence. 

After  the  crash  came  in  1837 — (there  were  some  pre- 
monitory jiU  before,  but  then  the  great  convuhion  came  on) 


240  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

— all  the  assets  of  the  country  were  marshalled,  and  the  su- 
ing material  of  all  sorts,  as  fast  as  it  could  be  got  out,  put  in- 
to the  hands  of  the  workmen.  Some  idea  of  the  business  may 
be  got  from  a  fact  or  two  :  in  the  county  of  Sumpter,  Ala- 
bama, in  one  year,  some  four  or  five  thousand  suits,  in  the 
common-law  courts  alone,  were  brought ;  but  in  some  other 
counties  the  number  was  larger  ;  while  in  the  lower  or  river 
counties  of  Mississippi,  the  number  was  at  least  double. 
The  United  States  Courts  were  equally  well  patronized  in 
proportion — indeed,  rather  more  so.  The  white  suable  pop- 
ulation of  Sumpter  was  then  some  2,400  men.  It  was  a  merry 
time  for  us  craftsmen  ;  and  we  brightened  up  mightily,  and 
shook  our  quills  joyously,  like  goslings  in  the  midst  of  a 
shower.  We  look  back  to  that  good  time,  "  now  past  and 
gone,"  with  the  pious  gratitude  and  serene  satisfaction  with 
which  the  wreckers  near  the  Florida  Keys  contemplate  the 
last  fine  storm. 

It  was  a  pleasant  sight  to  professional  eyes  to  see  a  whole 
people  let  go  all  holds  and  meaner  business,  and  move  off  to 
court,  like  the  Californians  and  Australians  to  the  mines  : 
the  ''  pockets"  were  picked  in  both  cases.  As  law  and  law- 
ing  soon  got  to  be  the  staple  productions  of  the  country,  the 
people,  as  a  whole  the  most  intelligent — in  the  wealthy  coun- 
ties—of the  rural  population  of  the  United  States,  and,  as  a 
part,  the  keenest  in  all  creation,  got  very  well  ''  up  to  trap" 
in  law  matters ;  indeed,  they  soon  knew  more  about  the  del- 
icate mysteries  of  the  law,  than  it  behooves  an  honest  man  to 
know. 


IHE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  241 

The  necessity  for  labor  and  the  habit  of  taking  difficulties 
by  the  horns  is  a  wonderful  help  to  a  man ;  no  one  knows 
what  he  can  accomplish  until  he  tries  his  best ;  or  how  firm- 
ly he  can  stand  on  his  own  legs  when  he^as  no  one  to  lean 
on. 

The  range  of  practice  was  large.  The  lawyer  had  to 
practise  in  all  sorts  of  courts,  State  and  Federal,  inferior  and 
Supreme.  He  had  the  bringing  up  of  a  lawsuit,  from  its 
oirth  in  the  writ  to  its  grave  in  the  sheriff's  docket.  Even 
when  not  concerned  in  his  own  business,  his  observation  was 
employed  in  seeing  the  business  of  others  going  on  ;  and  the 
general  excitement  on  the  subject  of  law  and  litigation,  tak- 
ing the  place,  in  the  partial  supension  of  other  business,  of 
other  excitements,  supplied  the  usual  topics  of  general,  and; 
more  especially,  of  professional  conversation.  If  he  follow- 
ed the  circuit,  he  was  always  in  law  :  the  temple  of  Themis, 
like  that  of  Janus  in  war,  was  always  open. 

The  bar  of  every  country  is,  in  some  sort,  a  representa- 
tive of  the  character  of  the  people  of  which  it  is  so  important  an 
"  institution."  We  have  partly  shown  what  this  character  was  : 
after  the  great  Law  revival  had  set  in,  the  public  mind  had  got 
to  be  as  acute,  excited,  inquisitive  on  the  subject  of  law,  as  that 
of  Tennessee  or  Kentucky  on  politics  :  every  man  knew  a  lit- 
tle and  many  a  great  deal  on  the  subject.  The  people  soon 
began  to  find  out  the  capacity  and  calibre  of  the  lawyers 
Besides,  the  multitude  and  variety  of  lawsuits  produced 
their  necessary  effect.  The  talents  of  the  lawyers  soon  adapt- 
ed themselves  to  the  nature  and  exigencies  of  the  service  re- 
11 


242  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

quired  of  them,  and  to  the  tone  and  temper  of  the  juries 
and  public.  Law  had  got  to  be  an  every-daj,  practical,  com- 
mon-pLace,  business-like  affair,  and  it  had  to  be  conducted  in 
the  same  spirit  on  Analogous  principles.  Keadiness,  preci- 
sion, plainness,  pertinency,  knowledge  of  law,  and  a  short-hand 
method  of  getting  at  and  getting  through  with  a  case,  were  the 
characteristics  and  desiderata  of  the  profession.  There  was  no 
time  for  wasting  words,  or  for  manoeuvring  and  skirmishing 
about  a  suit ;  there  was  no  patience  to  be  expended  on  exor- 
diums and  perorations :  few  jurors  were  to  be  humbugged 
by  demagogical  appeals  ;  and  the  audience  were  more  con- 
cerned to  know  what  was  to  become  of  the  negroes  in  suit, 
than  to  see  the  flights  of  an  ambitious  rhetoric,  or  to  have 
their  ears  fed  with  vain  repetitions,  mock  sentimentality,  or 
tumid  platitudes.  To  start  in  onedias  res — to  drive  at  the 
centre — to  make  the  home-thrust — to  grasp  the  hinging  point 
— to  give  out  and  prove  the  law,  and  to  reason  strongly  on 
the  facts — to  wrestle  with  the  subject  Indian-hug  fashion — 
to  speak  in  plain  English  and  fervid,  it  mattered  not  how 
rough,  were  the  qualities  required ;  and  these  qualities  were 
possessed  in  an  eminent  decree. 

Most  questions  litigated  are  questions  of  law  :  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  tried,  the  jury,  if  intelligent  and  impartial, 
have  no  difficulty  in  deciding  after  the  law  has  been  plainly 
given  them  by  the  court :  there  is  nothing  for  the  jury  to  do 
but  to  settle  the  facts,  and  these  are  not  often  seriously  con- 
troverted, in  proportion  to  the  number  of  cases  tried  in  a 
new  country ;  and  the  habit  of  examining  carefully,  and  ar- 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  243 

guing  fully,  legal  propositionSj  is  the  habit  which  makes  the 
lawyer.  Nothing  so  debilitates  and  corrupts  a  healthy  taste 
and  healthy  thought,  as  the  habit  of  addressing  ignorant  ju- 
ries ;  it  corrupts  style  and  destroys  candor ;  it  makes  a  speech, 
which  ought  to  be  an  enlightened  exposition  of  the  legal  merits 
of  a  cause,  a  mere  mass  of  "  skimble  skamble  stuff,"  a  com- 
pound of  humbug,  rant,  cant  and  hypocrisy,  of  low  demago- 
guism  and  flimsy  perversions — of  interminable  wordiness  and 
infinite  repetition,  exaggeration,  bathos  and  vituperation — 
frequently  of  low  wit  and  buffoonery — which  "  causes  the 
judicious  to  grieve,"  ''  though  it  splits  the  ears  of  thegound- 
lings."  We  do  not  say  that  the  new  bar  was  free  from  these 
traits  and  vices  :  by  no  manner  of  means :  but  I  do  say  that 
they  were,  as  a  class,  much  freer  than  the  bar  of  the  older 
States  out  of  the  commercial  cities.  The  reason  is  plain  : 
the  new  dogs  hadn't  learned  the  old  tricks;  and  if  they  had 
tricks  as  bad,  it  was  a  great  comfort  that  they  did  not  have 
the  same.  If  we  had  not  improvement,  we  had,  at  least,  va- 
riety ;  but,  we  think,  we  had  improvement. 

There  was  another  thing :  the  bar  and  the  community — 
as  all  emigrant  communities — were  mostly  young,  and  the 
young  men  cannot  afford  to  play  the  pranks  which  the  old 
fogies  safely  play  behind  the  domino  of  an  established  repu- 
tation. What  is  ridiculous,  in  itself  or  in  a  young  man,  may 
be  admired,  or  not  noticed,  in  an  older  leader  with  a  prescrip- 
tive title  to  cant  and  humbug ;  it  is  Use  majesty  to  take  him 
off,  but  the  juniors  with  us  had  no  such  immunity.  If  he 
tried  such  tricks  he  heard  of  it  again  ;  it  was  rehearsed  in 


244  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

his  presence  for  his  henefit — if  he  made  himself  very  iidicu. 
lous,  he  was  carried  around  the  circuit,  like  a  hung  jury  in 
old  times,  for  the  especial  divertisement  of  the  brethren.  A 
respectable  old  snob  like  Mr.  Buzzfuz,  shrouded  like  Jack 
the  Giant  Killer,  in  a  mantle  of  dignity  that  forbade  approach, 
if  it  did  not  hide  the  wearer  from  attack,  never  could  hear 
what  his  "  d — d  good-natured  friends"  thought  of  his  perform- 
ances in  the  department  of  humbug  or  cant ;  but  this  was, 
by  no  means,  the  case  with  such  an  one  in  our  younger  com- 
munity. 

Again,  it  is  flattering  to  human  nature  to  know  that  these 
forensic  tricks  are  not  spontaneous  but  acquired,  and  a  young 
bar  cannot,  all  at  once,  acquire  them.  It  requires  experi- 
ence, and  a  monstrous  development  of  the  organs  of  Reve- 
rence and  Marvellousness  in  the  audience  to  practise  them 
with  any  hope  of  success,  and  these  bumps  were  almost  en- 
tirely wanting  in  the  craniums  of  the  new  population  around, 
all  of  whose  eye-teeth  were  fully  cut,  and  who,  standing 
knee-deep  in  exploded  humbugs,  seemed  to  wear  their  eyes 
stereotyped  into  a  fixed,  unwinking  qui  vive :  the  very  ex- 
pression of  their  countenances  seemed  to  be  articulate  with 
the  interrogatory,  "  who  is  to  be  picked  up  next  ?"  It  stops 
curiously  the  flow  of  the  current  when  the  humbugger  sees 
the  intended  humbuggee  looking  him,  with  a  quizzical  'cute- 
ness,  in  the  eye.  and  seeming  to  say  by  the  expression  of  his 
own,  "  Squire,  do  you  see  any  thing  green  here  ?  " 

The  business  of  court-house  speaking  began  to  grow  too 
common  and  extensive  to  excite  public  interest ;  the  novelty 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  245 

of  the  thing,  after  a  while,  wore  off.  A  stream  of  sound 
poured  over  the  land  like  the  trade  winds  ;  men  now,  as  a 
general  thing,  only  came  to  court  because  they  had  business 
there,  and  staid  only  until  it  was  accomplished.  It  is  other- 
wise in  the  old  country  as  it  had  been  in  the  new.  It  is  one 
of  the  phenomena  of  mind  that  quiet  and  otherwise  sensible 
men,  come  from  their  homes  to  the  county  seat  to  listen  to 
the  speeches  of  the  lawyers, — looking  over  the  bar  and 
dropping  the  under  jaw  in  rapt  attention^  when  some  foren- 
sic Boreas  is  blowing  away  at  a  case  in  which  they  have  no 
interest  or  concern,  deserting,  for  this  queer  divertisement, 
the  splitting  of  their  rails  and  their  attention  to  their  bul- 
locks ;  or,  if  they  needed  some  relaxation  from  such  pursuits, 
neglecting  their  arm-chairs  in  the  passage  with  the  privilege 
of  reading  an  old  almanac  or  listening  to  the  wind  whistling 
through  the  key-hole.  When  a  thing  gets  to  be  a  work-day 
and  common-place  affair,  it  is  apt  to  be  done  in  a  common- 
place way,  and  the  parade,  tinsel,  and  fancy  fireworks  of  a  • 
holiday  exercise  or  a  gala-day  fete  are  apt  to  be  omitted 
from  the  bill  and  the  boards. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  a  lawyer's  strength 
lies  chiefly  in  his  tongue ;  it  is  in  the  preparation  of  his 
case — in  knowing  what  makes  the  case — in  stating  the  case 
accurately  in  the  papers,  and  getting  out  and  getting  up  the 
proofs.  It  requires  a  good  lawyer  to  make  a  fine  argument ; 
but  he  is  a  better  lawyer  who  saves  the  necessity  of  making 
a  fine  argument,  and  prevents  the  possibility  of  his  adversa- 
ry's making  one. 


246    SKETCHES  of  the  flush  times  of  ALABAMA. 

These  practical  requirements  and  habits  had  the  effect 
of  driving  from  the  bar  that  forensic  nuisance,  ''  a  pretty 
speaker;"  Fourth-of-Julyisms  fled  to  the  stump  or  the  na- 
tional anniversary  barbecues  ;  they  were  out  of  place  in 
those  prosaic  times  and  proceedings.  A  veteran  litigant 
having  a  tough  lawsuit,  had  as  little  use  for  a  flowery  orator, 
letting  off  his  fancy  pyrotechnics,  as  he  had  for  Juno's  team 
of  peacocks  for  hauling  his  cotton  to  market. 

Between  the  years  1833  and  1845,  the  bar  was  most  nu- 
merous, and,  we  think,  on  the  whole,  most  able.  The  Su- 
preme Court  bar  of  Mississippi  was  characterized  by  signal 
ability.  It  may  well  be  doubted  if  so  able  and  efl^cient  a 
bar  ever  existed  at  any  one  period  of  the  same  duration,  in 
a  Southern  State :  not  that  the  bar  was  made  up  of  Wick- 
hams,  Leighs,  Johnsons,  and  Stanards,  nor  of  Clays,  Crit- 
tendens,  Eowans,  and  Wickliffes ;  nor,  possibly,  that  there 
were  any  members  of  the  Jackson  bar  equal  to  these  great 
names  of  the  Kichmond  and  Frankfort  bars ;  yet  those  who 
have  heard  the  best  efforts  of  Prentiss,  Holt,  Walker,  Yer- 
ger,  Mays,  and  Boyd,  may  be  allowed  to  doubt  the  justness 
of  that  criticism  which  would  deny  a  place  to  them  among 
lawyers  even  so  renowned  as  the  shining  lights  of  the  Vir- 
ginia and  Kentucky  forums.  But  we  meant  to  say,  that  if 
this  claim  be  ignored,  yet  the  Mississippi  bar,  if  not  so  dis- 
tinguished for  individual  eminence,  made  up  the  deficiency 
by  a  more  generally-diffused  ability,  and  a  larger  number 
of  members  of  inferior,  though  only  a  shade  inferior,  dis- 
tinction. 


THE    BAE.    OF    THE    SOUTH-WEST.  247 

As  some  proof  of  the  ability  of  the  South-western  bar,  it 
may  be  stated,  that  we  had  not  unfrequently  an  advent  into 
the  new  country  of  lawyers  of  considerable  local  reputation 
in  the  older  States — men  who,  in  their  own  bailiwicks,  were 
mighty  men  of  war — so  distinguished,  indeed,  that  on  the 
first  bruiting  of  a  lawsuit,  the  litigants,  without  waiting  for 
the  ferry-boat,  would  swim  Tar  river,  or  the  Pedee,  or 
French  Broad,  to  get  to  them,  under  the  idea  that  who  got 
to  them  first  would  gain  the  case.  But  after  the  first  bustle 
of  their  coming  with  the  fox-fire  of  their  old  reputations 
sticking  to  their  gowns,  it  was  generally  found,  to  the  utter 
amazement  of  their  friends  who  had  known  them  in  the  old 
country,  that  the  new  importation  would  not  suit  the  market. 
They  usually  fell  back  from  the  position  at  first  courteously 
tendered  them,  and,  not  unfrequently,  receded  until,  worked 
out  of  profitable  practice,  they  took  their  places  low  down 
in  the  list,  or  were  lost  behind  the  bar,  among  the  spectators. 
There  is  something  doubtless  in  transplantation — something 
in  racing  over  one's  own  training-paths — something  in  first 
firing  with  a  rest,  and  then  being  compelled  to  fire  ofi'-hand 
amid  a  general  flutter  and  confusion ;  but,  making  all  this 
allowance,  it  hardly  accounts  fully  for  the  result.  For  we 
know  that  others,  against  these  disadvantages,  sustained 
themselves. 

Nor  was  there,  nor  is  there,  any  bar  that  better  illus- 
trates the  higher  properties  or  nobler  characteristi<3S  which 
have,  in  every  State,  so  much  ennobled  the  profession  of  the 
law,  than  that  of  the  South- West,  a  class  of  men  more  fear- 


248  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

less  or  more  faithful,  more  chivalrous,  reliable  or  trustworthy, 
more  loyal  to  professional  obligations,  or  more  honorable  in 
inter-professional  intercourse  and  relations.  True,  there 
were  exceptions,  as,  at  all  times  and  every  where,  there  are 
and  will  be.  Bullying -insolence,  swaggering  pretension,  un- 
derhanded arts,  low  detraction,  unworthy  huckstering  for 
fees,  circumvention,  artful  dodges,  ignoring  engagements,  fa- 
cile obliviousness  of  arrangements,  and  a  smart  sprinkling, 
especially  in  the  early  times,  of  pettifogging,  quibbling  and 
quirking  there  were  ;  but  these  vices  are  rather  of  persons 
than  of  caste,  and  are  not  often  found ;  and,  when  they 
make  themselves  apparent,  are  scouted  with  scorn  by  the 
better  members  of  the  bar. 

We  should  be  grossly  misunderstood  if  we  were  con- 
strued to  imply  that  the  bar  of  the  South-West,  possessing 
the  signal  opportunities  and  advantages  to  which  we  have 
adverted,  so  improved  them  that  all  of  its  members  became 
good  lawyers  and  honorable  gentlemen.  Mendacity  itself 
could  scarcely  be  supposd  to  assert  what  no  credulity  could 
believe.  All  the  guano  of  Lobos  could  not  make  Zahara 
a  garden.  In  too  many  cases  there  was  no  sub-soil  of  mind 
or  morals  on  which  these  advantages  could  rest.  As  Chief 
Justice  Collier,  in  Dargan  and  Waring,  17  Ala.  Reports,  in 
language,  marrying  the  manly  strength  and  beauty  of  Elack- 
stone  to  the  classic  elegance  and  flexible  grace  of  Stowell, 
expresses  it,  "  the  claim  of  such,"  so  predicated,  '^  would  be 
vro  tanto  absolutely  void,  and,  having  nothing  to  rest  on,  a 
court  of  equity ''  (or  law)  ''  could  not  impart  to  it  vitality. 


THE    BAR    OF    THE    SOUTHWEST.  249 

Form  and  order  has  been  given  to  chaos,  but  an  appeal  to 
equity  "  (or  law)  "  to  breathe  life  into  a  nonentity,  which  is 
both  intangible  and  imperceptible,  supposes  a  higher  power 
— one  which  no  human  tribunal  can  rightfully  exercise. 
^quitas  sequitur  legem^     This  view  is  conclusive. 

We  should  have  been  pleased  to  have  said  something  of 
the  bench,  especially  of  that  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Ala- 
bama and  Mississippi,  but  neither  our  space  nor  the  patience 
of  the  reader  will  permit. 

A  writer  usually  catches  something  from,  as  well  as  com- 
municates something  to,  his  subject.  Hence  if,  in  the  state- 
ments of  this  paper,  we  shall  encounter  the  incredulity  of 
some  old  fogy  of  an  older  bar,  and  he  should  set  us  down  as 
little  better  than  a  romancer  in  prose,  we  beg  him  to  consider 
that  we  have  had  two  or  three  regiments  of  lawyers  for  our 
theme — and  be  charitable. 


250  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


THE  HON.   FRANCIS  -  STROTHER. 

I  NIB  my  pen  and  impart  to  it  a  fine  hair-stroke,  in  order  that 
I  may  give  the  more  delicate  touches  which  can  alone  show 
forth  the  character  of  this  distinguished  gentleman.  It  is 
no  ordinary  character,  and  yet  it  is  most  difficult  to  draw. 
There  are  no  sharp  angles,  no  salient  points  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  miss,  and  which  serve  as  handles  whereby  to  hold 
up  a  character  to  public  view.  The  lines  are  delicate,  the 
grain  fine,  the  features  regular,  the  contour  fall,  rounded  and 
perfectly  developed,  nowhere  feeble  or  stunted,  and  nowhere 
disproportioned.  He  is  the  type  of  a  olass,  unfortunately  of 
a  small  class ;  more  unfortunately  of  a  class  rapidly 
disappearing  in  the  hurly-burly  of  this  fast  age  of  steam 
pressure  and  railway  progress :  a  gentleman  of  the  Old 
School  with  the  energy  of  the  New. 

If  I  hold  the  pencil  in  hand  in  idle  reverie,  it  is  because 
my  mind  rests  lovingly  upon  a  picture  I  feel  incapable  of 
transcribing  with  fidelity  to  the  original :  I  feel  that  the 
coarse  copy  I  shall  make  will  do  no  justice  to  the  image  on 
the  mind ;  and,  therefore,  I  pause  a  moment,. to  look  once 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  251 

more  at  the  original  before  it  is  obscured  by  the  rude  coun- 
terpart. 

Fifteen  years  ago — long  years  crowded  with  changes  and 
events — such  changes  as  are  only  effected  in  oiir  country 
within  so  short  a  period, — the  savage  disappearing — the  fron- 
tier-man following  on  to  a  further  border — that  border,  like 
the  horizon,  widening  and  stretching  out  towards  the  sink- 
ing sun,  as  we  go  on  ; — then  the  rude  settlement,  now  the  im- 
proved neighborhood,  with  its  school-houses  and  churches  ;  the 
log  cabin  giving  way  to  the  mansion, — the  wilderness  giving 
way  to  the  garden  and  the  farm ;  fifteen  years  ago,  I  first  saw 
him.  He  was  then,  so  far  as  I  can  remember,  what  he  is 
now  : — no  perceptible  change  has  occurred  in  any  outward  or 
inner  characteristic,  except  that  now  a  pair  of  spectacles  oc- 
casionally may  be  found  upon  his  nose,  as  that  unresting  pen 
sweeps  in  bold  and  beautiful  chirography  across  his  paper ; 
a  deeper  tinge  of  gray  may  be  seen  in  his  hair,  and  possibly  too, 
his  slight,  but  graceful  and  well-knit  form  may  be  a  trifle  less 
active  than  of  old.  I  put  these  as  possibilities — not  as  mat- 
ters I  can  note. 

The  large,  well-developed  head — the  mild,  quiet,  strong 
face — the  nose,  slightly  aquiline — the  mouth,  firm  yet  flexi- 
ble— the  slightly  elongated  chin — the  head  oval,  and  pro- 
truding largely  behind  the  ears  in  the  region  that  supplies 
the  motive  powers,  would  not  have  conveyed  a  right  mean- 
ing did  not  the  blue  eyes,  strong  yet  kind,  beaming  out  the 
mingled  expression  of  intelligence  and  benignity,  which, 
abpve  all  other  marks,  is  the  unmistakable,  uneounterfeit- 


252  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

able  outward  sign  of  a  true  gentleman,  relieve  and  mellow 
the  picture.  The  voice  kind,  social,  gentle — and  the  whole 
manner  deferential,  simple,  natural  and  winning — self-poised, 
modest,  friendly,  and  jet  delicate  and  gracefully  dignified. 
Dignified  is  scarcely  an  apt  word  in  the  vulgar  meaning  at- 
tached to  it ;  for  there  was  no  idea  of  self,  much  less  of  pre- 
tension or  affectation  connected  with  his  manner  or  bearing. 
But  there  was,  towards  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  a  genu- 
ine and  unaffected  kindness  and  friendliness,  which  every 
man  who  approached  him  felt  had  something  in  it  peculiarly 
sweet  towards  him  ;  and  made  the  most  unfriended  outcast 
feel  there  was,  at  least,  07ie  man  in  the  world  who  felt  an  in- 
terest in  and  sympathy  for  him  and  his  fortunes.  Towards 
the  young  especially  was  this  exhibited,  and  by  them  was  it 
appreciated.  A  child  would  come  to  him  with  the  feeling 
of  familiarity  and  a  sense  of  affectionate  consideration ;  and 
a  young  man,  just  coming  to  the  bar,  felt  that  he  had  found 
one  who  would  be  glad  to  aid  him  in  his  struggles  and  en- 
courage him  in  difficulty.  "Were  this  rare  manner  a  thing  of 
art  and  but  a  manual  gone  through  with — put  on  for  effect — 
it  could  not  have  been  long  maintained  or  long  undiscovered. 
But  it  was  the  same  all  the  time — and  the  effect  the  same. 
We  need  scarcely  say  that  the  effect  was  to  give  the  subject 
of  it  a  popularity  well  nigh  universal.  It  was  a  popularity 
which  during  years  of  active  life  in  all  departments  of  busi- 
ness affairs,  public  and  private — all  the  strifes  of  rivalry  and 
collisions  of  interest  never  shook.  The  fiercest  oppositions 
of  party  left  him  uninjured  in  fame  or  appreciation :  indeed 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  253 

no  party  ties  were  strong  enough  to  resist  a  popularity  so 
deep  and  wide. 

He  had  passed  through  the  strong  temptations  which 
beset  a  man  in  a  new  country,  and  such  a  country,  unscathed, 
unsoiled  even  by  suspicion,  and  ever  maintained  a  reputation 
above  question  or  challenge.  It  were  easy  to  have  accumu- 
lated an  immense  fortune  by  an  agency  for  the  Indians  in 
securing  their  claims  under  the  treaty  of  1830  ;  and  he  was 
offered  the  agency  with  a  compensation  which  would  have 
made  him  a  millionnaire  ;  he  took  the  agency  but  rejected  the 
fortune. 

He  was  the  genius  of  labor.  His  unequalled  facility  in 
the  dispatch  of  business  surprised  all  who  knew  its  extent. 
Nothing  was  omitted — nothing  flurried  over — nothing  bore 
marks  of  haste,  nothing  was  done  out  of-  time.  System — 
order — punctuality  waited  upon  him  as  so  many  servants  to 
that  patient  and  indomitable  industry.  He  had  a  rare  tact 
in  getting  at,  and  in  getting  through,  a  thing.  He  saw  at 
once  the  point.  He  never  missed  the  joint  of  the  argument. 
He  never  went  to  opening  the  oyster  at  the  wrong  end.  He 
never  turned  over  and  over  a  subject  to  find  out  what  to  do 
with  it  or  how  to  commence  work.  He  caught  the  run  of 
the  facts — moulded  the  scheme  of  his  treatment  of  them — 
saw  their  right  relations,  value  and  dependence,  and  then 
started  at  once,  in  ready,  fluent  and  terse  English,  to  put  them 
on  paper  or  marshal  them  in  speech.  His  power  of  state- 
ment was  remarkable,  especially  of  written  statement.  He 
could  make  more  out  of  a  fact  than  most  men  out  of  two  : 


254  SlvETCP.ES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

and  immaterial  matters  be  could  so  dove-tail  and  attach  to 
other  matters,  that  they  left  an  impression  of  a  great  deal  of 
plausibility  and  pertinency. 

He  loTed  labor  for  its  own  sake  as  some  men  lore  ease. 
There  was  no  part  of  office-work  drudgery  to  him.  He  car- 
ried his  writing  materials  about  with  him  as  some  men  their 
canes :  and  that  busy  pen,  at  a  moment's  notice,  was  speed- 
ing over  the  paper,  throwiog  the  g's  and  y's  behind  at  a  rapid 
rate. 

A  member  of  Conorress — he  was  in  the  House,  deiendiiior 
the  Pre-emption  System,  out  of  it,  attending  to  some  busi- 
ness before  the  departments  :  in  again,  writing  with  a  pile  of 
letters  before  him ;  in  the  committee  room,  busy  with  its 
business :  again,  before  the  Secretary  of  War,  arguing  some 
question  about  the  Dancing  Babbit  Treaty,  14th  article  : — 
and  then  consulting  the  Attorney  Greneral,  so  that  persons 
who  had  no  knowledge  of  his  ubiquitous  habits,  seeing  him  at 
one  of  these  places,  would  have  been  willing  to  have  sworn  an 
aUbi  for  him  if  charged  with  being  that  morning  at  any  other. 

Keturning  to  the  practice,  it  was  the  same  thing.  The 
management  and  care  of  his  own  property — his  attention  to 
a  large  family  and  household  affairs — these  things  would 
have  made  some  inroads  upon  another's  time,  but  these  and 
a  large  practice,  extended  over  many  courts  and  several  of 
the  wealthiest  counties  of  the  State,  at  a  time  when  every 
man  was  a  client,  did  not  seem  to  press  upon  him.  He 
could  turn  himself  from  one  subject  to  another  with  wonder- 
ful ease :  the  hinges  of  his  mind  moved  as  if  oiled,  in  any  di- 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  255 

rection.  Trying  an  important  case  in  the  Circuit  Court,  as 
the  jury  retired  and  the  Court  was  calling  some  other  case, 
he  would  propose  to  the  opposite  counsel  to  go  down  into  the 
Orphan's  Court,  and  try  a  case  there,  involving  a  few  thou- 
sands ;  and  that  dispatched,  might  be  found  in  the  Chancery 
office  preparing  a  suit  for  trial  there ;  which  finished,  he 
would  hear  the  result  of  the  law  case,  and,  by  the  meeting 
of  Court,  have  (if  decided  adversely)  a  bill  of  exceptions 
ready^  of  a  sheet  or  two  of  foolscap,  or  a  bill  for  an  injunc- 
tion to  take  the  case  into  Chancery.  At  night,  he  would  be 
ready  for  a  reference  before  the  Master  of  an  account  of  part- 
nership transactions  of  vast  ariiount ;  and,  as  he  walked  into 
Court  next  morning,  would  merely  call  by  to  file  a  score  or 
two  of  exceptions  ;  and,  in  all  the  time,  would  carry  on  his 
consultations  and  prepare  the  cases  coming  on  for  trial,  and 
be  ready  to  enjoy  a  little  social  conversation  with  his  breth- 
ren. In  all  this,  there  was  no  bustle,  hurry,  parade,  fuss. 
or  excitement.  He  moved  like  the  Ericsson  motor,  with- 
out noise,  the  only  evidence  that  it  was  moving  being  the 
progress  made. 

He  was  never  out  of  temper,  never  flurried,  never  excited. 
There  was  a  serious,  patient  expression  in  the  eyes,  which 
showed  a  com.plete  mastery  of  all  things  that  trouble  the  ner- 
vous system.  Even  when  he  complained — as  he  often  did — 
it  was  not  a  testy,  ill-natured,  peevish  grumbling,  but  seem- 
ingly the  complaint  of  a  good,  gentle  nature,  whose  meek- 
ness was  a  little  too  sternly  tried.  He  never  abused  any 
body.     He  had  no  use  for  sarcasm  or  invective.     Even  when 


256  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

prosecuting  for  crime  a  heinous  criminal,  he  used  the  lan- 
guage of  civility,  if  not  of  kindness.  Indeed,  he  seemed  to 
seek  a  conviction  from  a  sheer  feeling  of  consideration  for 
the  prisoner.  He  would  cross-examine  a  swift  or  perjured 
witness  in  a  tone  of  kindness  which  seemed  anxious  to  relievo 
him  from  embarrassment ;  and  plying  with  great  tact  ques- 
tion after  question,  would,  when  the  witness  faltered  and 
stammered  or  broke  down,  seem  to  feel  a  lively  sentiment 
of  commiseration  for  his  unfortunate  predicament.  In  com- 
menting upon  his  testimony,  he  would  attribute  his  unhappy 
course  to  any  thing  but  wilful  misstatement — to  strange  hal- 
lucination, prejudice,  an  excitable  temperament,  want  of 
memory,  or  even. to  dreaming:  but  still  the  right  impression 
was  always  left,  if  in  no  other  way,  by  the  elaborate  dis- 
claimers and  apologies,  that,  with  such  persistent  and  perti- 
nacious over-kindness,  he  made  for  the  delinquent 

There  was  business  skill  in  every  thing  he  did.  His  ar- 
guments were  clear,  brief,  pointed — ^never  wandering,  dis- 
cursive or  episodical — never  over-worked,  or  over-laden,  or 
over-elaborated.  He  took  all  the  points — took  them  clearly, 
expressed  them  neatly  and  fully — knew  when  to  press  a 
point  and  when  to  glide  over  it  quickly,  and  above  all — what 
so  few  know — he  knew  when  he  was  done.  His  tone  was 
that  of  animated  conversation,  his  manner  courteous,  re- 
spectful, impressive  and  persuasive  :  never  offending  good 
taste,  never  hurried  away  by  imprudence  or  compromising 
his  case  by  a  point  that  could  be  made  to  reach  it ;  and  pro- 
bably making  as  few  imprudent  admissions  as  any  member 
of  the  bar. 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  257 

But  in  many  of  these  points  he  was  equalled ;  in  one  he 
was  not — his  tact  in  drawing  papers.  In  a  paper  showing 
for  a  continuance  or  for  a  change  of  venue,  the  skill  with 
which  the  facts  were  marshalled  and  conclusions  insinuated 
was  remarkable.  Like  shot-silk  the  light  glanced  over  and 
along  the  whole  statement,  though  it  was  often  hard  to  find 
precisely  where  it  was  or  what  made  it ;  yet,  if  admitted,  a 
little  emphasis  or  a  slight  connection  with  extraneous  mat- 
ter would  put  his  adversary's  case  in  a  dangerous  position. 

A  more  pliant,  facile,  complying  gentleman  than  the 
Hon.  Francis,  it  was  impossible  to  find  on  a  summer's  day, — 
so  truthful,  so  credulous,  so  amiably  uncontroverting.  It 
seemed  almost  a  pity  to  take  advantage  of  such  simplicity, 
to  impose  upon  such  deferential  confidence  !  Such  innocence 
deserved  to  be  respected,  and  like  the  Virgin  in  the  fable, 
sleeping  by  the  lion,  one  would  think  that  it  ought  to  carry 
in  its  trusting  purity  a  charm  against  wrong  from  the  most 
savage  brutality  or  the  most  unscrupulous  mendacity.  This 
view  of  the  subject,  I  am  forced  to  say,  does  not  quite  rep- 
resent the  fact.  The  Hon.  Francis  ivas  very  limber — but 
it  was  the  limberness  of  whalebone,  gum-elastic,  steel  springs 
and  gutta  perch  a — limber  because  tough — easily  bowed,  but 
impossible  to  be  broken  or  kept  down.  He  had  great  sua- 
vity— but  it  was  only  the  suaviter  in  moclo.  Substantially 
and  essentially  he  was  foriiter  in  re — mechanically  he  was 
suaviter  in  modo  :  the  suaviter  was  only  the  runnicg  gear 
by  which  he  worked  the  fortiter.  In  his  own  private  afi'airs 
no  man  was  more  liberal  and  yielding,  or  less  exacting  or 


258  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

pertinacious  ;  professionally,  his  concessions  took  the  form 
of,  and  exhausted  their  energies  in  beneficent  words,  benig- 
nant seemings  and  gracious  gestures.  But  his  manner  was 
inimitabl}^  munificent.  Though  he  gave  nothing,  he  went 
through  the  motions  of  giving  most  grandly ;  empty-handed 
you  felt  that  you  were  full ;  you  mistook  the  filling  of  your 
ears  for  some  substantial  benefit  to  your  client ;  there  was 
an  affluence  of  words,  a  lingual  and  manual  generosity  which 
almost  seemed  to  transpose  the  figures  on  the  statement 
which  he  prqposed  as  a  settlement.  "With  a  grand  self-abne- 
gation, he  would  allow  you  to  continue  a  cause  when  his  side 
was  not  ready  to  try  it,  and  would  most  blandly  merely  in- 
sist on  your  paying  the  costs,  magnanimously  waiving  fur- 
ther advantage  of  your  situation.  He  would  suffer  you  to 
take  a  non-suit  with  an  air  of  kindness  calculated  to  rivet  a 
sense  of  eternal  obligation.  No  man  revelled  in  a  more 
princely  generosity  than  he  when  he  gave  away  nothing. 
And  to  carry  out  the  self-delusion,  he  took  with  the  air  of 
giving  a  bounty.  Before  his  manner  of  marvellous  conces- 
sion all  impediments  and  precedence  vanished.  If  he  had 
a  case  at  the  end  of  the  docket,  he  always  managed  to  get  it 
tried  first  :  if  the  arrangement  of  the  docket  did  not  suit  his 
convenience,  his  convenience  changed  it  by  a  sort  of  not-be- 
fore  understood,  but  taken-for-granted  general  consent  of 
the  bar.  There  was  such  a  matter-of-course  about  his  polite 
propositions,  that  for  a  good  while,  no  one  ever  thought  or 
resisting  them ;  indeed,  most  lawyers,  under  the  spell  of  his 
infatuating  manners,  half-recollected  some  sort  of  agreement 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  259 

which  was  never  made.  In  the  trial  of  a  cause  he  would 
slip  in  testimony  on  you  in  such  a  cozy,  easy,  insinuating 
fashion,  that  you  were  ruined  before  jou  could  rally  to  op- 
pose it.  Even  witnesses  could  not  resist  the  graciousness 
and  affectionateness  of  his  manner,  the  confidence  with  which 
he  rested  on  their  presumed  knowledge  : — they  thought  they 
must  know  what  he  evidently  knew  so  well  and  so  authenti- 
cally. 

He  lifted  great  weights  as  the  media  do  heavy  tables 
without  any  show  of  strength. 

The  Hon.  Francis  had  no  doubts.  He  had  passed  from 
this  world  of  shadows  to  a  world  of  perfect  light  and  know- 
ledge. He  had  the  rare  luck  of  always  being  on  the  right 
side  :  and  then  he  had  all  the  points  that  could  be  made  on 
that  side  clearly  in  his  favor,  and  all  that  could  be  made 
against  him  were  clearly  wrong.  He  was  never  taken  off 
his  guard.  If  a  witness  swore  him  out  of  court,  he  could 
not  swear  him  out  of  countenance.  He  expected  it.  His 
case  was  better  than  he  feared.  In  the  serene  confidence  of 
unshakable  faith  in  his  cause,  brickbats  fell  on  his  mind 
like  snowflakes,  melting  as  they  fell,  and  leaving  no  impres- 
sion. If  he  had  but  one  witness,  and  you  had  six  against 
him,  long  after  the  jury  had  ceased  listening  and  when  you 
concluded,  he  would  mildly  ask  you  if  that  was  all  your 
proof,  and  if  you  proposed  going  to  the  jury  on  that  ? 

But  if  the  Hon.  Francis  had  no  doubts,  he  had  an  enor- 
mous development  of  the  organ  of  wonder.  He  had  a  note 
of  admiration  in  his  eye  as  large  as  a  ninepin.    He  wondered 


260     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLt'SH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

that  a  party  should  have' brought  such  a  suit  :  that  another 
had  set  up  such  a  defeuce  :  that  the  counsel  should  have 
tajien  such  a  point ;  that  the  court  should  have  made  such  a 
ruling  (with  great  deference),  and  he  wondered^that  the  Su- 
reme  Court  had  sustained  it.  Xil  admirari  was  not  his 
maxim. 

I  was  a  little  too  fast  when  I  said  he  was  never  taken 
by  surprise.  He  was  once — indeed  twice.  Casually  looking 
at  some  papers  Blass  held  in  his  hand,  as  an  important  case 
was  being  called  for  trial,  he  saw  what  he  took  to  be  a  release 
of  the  action  by  one  of  the  nominal  plaintiffs :  in  order  to 
avoid  the  effect  of  this  paper,  he  applied  for  a  continuance, 
which  it  was  never  difficult  for  him  to  obtain.  Finding  out 
afterwards  his  mistake,  he  moved  to  set  aside  the  order  of 
continuance.  It  required  a  lion-like  boldness  to  make  and 
assign  the  grounds  of  the  motion  :  this  effort  he  essayed  with 
his  usual  ingenuity.  He  commenced  by  speaking  of  Blass 's 
high  character — that  he  had  been  deceived  by  the  real  and 
implied  assurance  of  B. — that  he  acquitted  B.  of  all  intention- 
al impropriety :  he  entered  into  a  most  elaborate  disclaimer 
of  all  injurious  imputation :  he  spoke  only  of  the  effect :  he 
had  only  seen  hastily  a  paper  endorsed  as  a  release  :  he  should 
be  surprised  if  the  gentleman  would  hold  him  to  the  order 
taken  under  such  circumstances  of  mistake — a  mistake  which 
had  misled  him,  and  which  he  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
of  correcting.  '*  In  other  words,''  said  B.,  '^  you  peeped  into 
my  hand  and  mistook  the  card,  and  now  you  want  to  renig 
because  vour  eves  fooled  vou."     *'  Ahem  !"  said  S.,  •'  I  have 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTIIER.  .         261 

already  stated  the  facts."  ^'  Well,"  said  B.,  pulling  out  the 
paper,  "  I  will  let  you  set  aside  the  order  if  you  promise  to 
go  to  trial."  ^- No,"  S.  answered,  ''I  believe  not:  on  fur- 
ther reflection,  perhaps  it  might  be  irregular." 

On  another  occasion  he  had  been  cross-examining  an  Irish- 
man, and  the  Hibernian  desiring  to  come  prepared  to  make 
a  display  in  affidavit  elocution,  had  written  out  his  testimony 
at  length :  but  having  got  drunk  lie  had  dropped  the  MS., 
which  being  found  by  the  client  of  Mr.  S.,  was  put  into  his 
hands.  Mr.  S.  opened  the  paper  and  inquired  of  the  witness, 
"  Mr.  McShee,  did  you  ever  see  this  paper  before  :  have  the 
kindness  to  look  at  it  ?"  The  witness  snatched  up  the  paper 
and  answered  quickly,  ''  Sure,  yes — it's  mine,  Misther  Stro- 
ther,  I  lost  it  meself,  and  where  is  the  $5  bill  I  put  in  it  ?  " 

Being  pressed  for  time,  one  morning,  Mr.  S.  entered  a 
barber's  shop  in  Mobile,  where  he  saw  a  brother  lawyer  of 
the  Sumter  bar.  Jemmy  0.,  highly  lathered,  sitting  in  much 
state  in  the  chair  waiting  for  the  havberiaii  to  sharpen  his 
blade.  Mr.  S.  addressed  his  old  acquaintance  with  great 
warmth  and  cordiality — requested  him  to  keep  his  seat — 
begged  him  not  to  be  at  all  uneasy  on  his  account — protest- 
ed that  he  was  not  in  his  way — he  could  wait — not  to  think  of 
putting  him  to  trouble — pulled  off  his  cravat — it  was  no  in- 
trusion— not  at  all — by  no  means — politely  disclaimed,  af- 
firmed and  protested — until  J.  0.,  thinking  that  Mr.  S. 
somehow  had  precedence,  got  up  and  insisted  on  Mr.  S. 
taking  the  chair,  to  which  Mr.  S.,  like  Donna  Julia,  "  vow- 
ing he  would  ne'er  consent,  consented" — was  duly  shaved — 


262     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLuSlI  TLMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

all  the  while  protesting  against  it — and  went  out,  leaving  J 
0.  to  think  he  was  the  politest  man  he  had  ever  met  with. 

When  J.  0.  afterwards  found  out  that  S.  had  no  prece 
dence,  he  said  he  had  been  taught  a  new  chapter  of  law — ■ 
the  title  by  disclaimer. 

,  At  length  the  Hon.  Mr.  Strother  got  his  hands  full. 
He  got  at  last  to  the  long  wished  for  enjoyment  which  was 
to  reward  the  trials  of  his  earlier  years.  He  was  made  com- 
missioner of  the  State  Banks  of  Alabama.  He  had  it  all 
to  himself  No  partner  shared  with  him  this  luxurious  re- 
past. Such  a  mass  and  mess  of  confusion — such  a  bundle 
of  heterogeneous  botches ;  in  which  blundering  stupidity, 
reckless  inattention,  and  both  intelligent  and  ignorant  ras- 
cality had  made  their  tracks  and  figures,  never  before  was 
seen.  He  was  to  bring  order  out  of  chaos — reconcile  dis- 
crepancies— supply  whole  pages  of  ledgers — balance  unbal- 
anceable  accounts — understand  the  unintelligible — collect 
debts  involved  in  all  mazes  of  legal  defences,  or  slumbering 
cozily  in  chancery — to  bring  all  sorts  of  agents  to  all  sorts 
of  settlements — to  compromise  bad  debts — disencumber 
clogged  property — to  keep  up  a  correspondence  like  that 
of  the  Pension  Bureau — and  manage  the  finances  of  the 
State  government.  The  State  trembled  on  the  verge  of  Re- 
pudiation ;  if  the  assets  of  the  banks  were  lost,  the  honor 
of  the  State  was  gone.  The  road  through  the  Bank  opera- 
tions was  like  the  road  through  Hounslow  heath,  every  step 
a  robbery.  To  bring  the  authors  to  their  responsibility — to 
hunt  up  and  hunt  down  absconding  debtors  and  speculators 


HON.    FRANCIS    STROTHER.  26? 

— to  be  every  where  at  once — to  be  in  Boston,  Mobile,  New 
Orleans,  New-York — and  then  to  keep  up  his  practice  in 
several  counties  just  for  holiday  refreshment,  were  some  of 
the  labors  he  performed.  " 

He  succeeded  wonderfully.  He  kept  untarnished  the 
honor  of  the  State.  He  restored  its  solvency,  and,  clothed 
with  such  vast  trusts,  greater  than  were  ever  before  confided, 
perhaps,  in  the  South-West  to  a  single  man,  he  discharged 
them  with  a  fidelity  which  can  neither  be  exaggerated  nor  de- 
nied. He,  like  Falstaff,  "  turned  diseases  to  commodity  :"  the 
worthless  assets  of  the  Banks  were  turned  into  State  Bonds  ; 
and  the  State,  relieved  of  the  pressure  upon  her  resources, 
rose  up  at  once  to  her  place  of  honor  in  the  sisterhood  of 
States,  and  shone,  with  a  new  and  fresher  lustre,  not  the 
least  in  that  bright  galaxy.  Relieved  of  her  embarrass- 
ments, in  no  small  degree  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
distinguished  citizen,  whose  name  shines  through  the  nom  de 
guerre  at  the  head  of  this  article,  improvements  are  going 
on,  mingling  enterprise  with  patriotism,  and  giving  forth  the 
most  auspicious  prospects  for  the  future.  It  is,  therefore, 
not  out  of  place  to  give  some  passing  notice  of  one  more  in- 
strumental than  any  other  in  redeeming  the  State  from  the 
Flush  Times ^  in  the  course  of  our  hasty  articles  illustrative 
of  that  hell-carnival 


2G4    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA 


MR.  TEE  AND  MR.  GEE. 

One  of  the  most  distiiigiiislied  lawyers  iu  the  State  of  Mis- 
sissippi, was  W.  Y.  Gee,  Esq.  He  was  distiuguished  not 
less  for  his  legal  learning  than  for  the  acuteness  and  sub- 
tlety of  his  intellect.  He  was  fond  of  exercising  his  talents 
in  legal  speculations,  and  was  pleased  when  some  new  and 
difficult  point  was  presented  for  solution.  John  S.  Tee, 
Esq.,  was  not  of  that  sort.  He  was  a  man  of  facts  and  fig- 
ures, and  practical  and  stern  realities.  He  cared  nothing 
about  a  lawsuit  except  for  the  proofs  and  what  appeared  on 
the  back  of  the  execution,  and  thought  the  best  Report  ever 
made  of  a  case  was  that  made  by  the  sheriff.  He  was  com- 
pletely satisfied  if  the  Fi-fa  was.  He  was  doing  a  large 
collecting  business  :  he  prided  himself  more  on  the  skill  with 
which  he  worked  on  a  promissory  note  than  he  would  have 
done  if  he  had  pinned  Pinkuey,  like  a  beetle,  to  the  wall, 
in  McCoUough  vs.  The  State  of  2Iari/Ia?idj  or  made  Web- 
ster '''  take  water "  in  the  great  Dartmouth  College  case. 
AVhat  seemed  to  him  ''  the  perfection  of  human  reason,"  was 
not  the  common  law,  but  that  part  of  the  Statute  law  which 


MR.  TEE    AND    MR.   GEE.  265 

gave  the  remedy  by  attachment,  and  which  statute  was,  as 
hd  was  fond  of  saying,  ''  to  be  liberally  construed  in  favor 
of  justice  and  for  the  prevention  of  fraud :  "  and  he  thought 
the  perfection  of  professional  practice  under  the  ^^  perfection 
of  reason,"  was,  to  get  a  skulking  debtor  fixed  so  as  to  give 
an  opportunity  for  starting  the  remedy  after  him,  and  thus 
securing  a  bad  or  doubtful  debt  out  of  property  which 
might  otherwise  be  ^'  secreted,"  or  squandered  in  paying 
other  debts,  for  which  the  debtor  might  have  a  sickly  fancy. 

Squire  Tee  was  a  great  favorite  of  Northern  creditors, 
and  deservedly.  He  clung  to  them  through  thick  and  thin, 
through  good  report  and  through  bad  report,  in  hard  times 
and  in  easy  times,  and  through  all  times.  He  ^'kept  his 
loyalty,  his  love,  his  zeal "  in  a  perpetual  fervor.  His  confi- 
dence in  them  was  unbounded.  Nothing  could  either  in- 
crease or  diminish  it.  He  would  have  sacrificed  his  own 
interest  to  theirs — he  did,  no  doubt,  frequently :  and  the 
more  he  gave  of  service  to  their  cause — by  the  usual  law  of 
charity — the  more  he  was  capable  of  giving — the  widow's 
cruse  of  oil  grew  by  the  giving  to  two  widows'  cruses 
of  oil. 

Among  other  things,  he  practised  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  facts  of  his  case.  No  man  was  more  sedu- 
lous in  the  preparation  of  proofs.  He  knew  that  however 
well  a  case  was  put  up  on  the  papers,  it  was  of  but  little 
avail  if  it  was  not  also  well  put  up  in  the  evidence.  He 
liked  evidence — a  plenty  of  it,  and  good  what  there  was  of 
it :  better  too  much  than  not  enough ; — he  liked  to  converse 
12 


266  SKETCHES    of    the    flush    times    of    AL^BiiMA. 

with  the  witnesses  himself — to  know  exactly  what  they 
would  prove  :  it  pleased  him  to  hear  them  rehearse,  and 
then  it  prepared  him  for  the  coming  on  of  the  piece  when 
he  could  act  as  prompter.  He  was  an  amateur  in  eviden^ie ; 
he  loved  it  as  an  antiquarian  an  old  fossil — as  a  machinist  a 
new  invention — as  a  politician  a  new  humbug ;  it  was  a 
thing  to  be  admired  for  itself — it  had  both  an  intrinsic  and 
an  extrinsic  value.  Keceiving  many  claims  when  the  times 
were  at  the  hardest,  he  found  himself  frequently  opposed  by 
the  ablest  counsel  of  the  State ;  and  the  incident  we  are  to 
relate  of  him  occurred  on  one  of  those  occasions. 

It  should  have  been  stated  that,  as  in  collecting  cases, 
many  of  the  clients  lived  at  a  great  distance  from  the 
debtor,  the  attorney  acted,  in  such  instances,  as  the  general 
agent  of  the  creditor,  to  a  great  extent :  and,  in  preparing  a 
case  for  trirl,  had  to  do  the  work  of  both  client  and  counsel. 
Mr.  Tee  was  often  brought  into  correspondence  with  the 
debtors  afterwards  to  be  made  defendants.  Opportunities 
afforded  by  'such  relations,  it  will  readily  be  perceived,  could 
very  easily  be  improved  into  occasions  for  eliciting  such 
facts  as  would,  in  no  few  instances,  be  very  useful  evidence 
on  the  trial.  In  this  way,  Mr.  Tee^s  research  and  industry 
had  been  rewarded  by  a  vast  amount  of  useful  information 
of  which  his  duty  to  his  clients  made  him  not  at  all  penu- 
rious, when  it  became  their  interest  to  have  it  turned  into 
testimony.  He  had  a  good  memory,  a  good  manner,  an  ex- 
cellent voice  and  a  fine  person ;  and  he  knew  of  no  more 
pleasing  way  of  putting  to  account  a  good  memory,  a  good 


MR.  TEE    AND    MR.   GEE.  267 

manner,  an  excellent  voice  and  a  fine  person,  than  in  deliver- 
ing testimony  in  open  court  for  a  Northern  client.  He  had 
one  advantage  over  most  witnesses ;  he  knew  something 
about  the  facts  before  he  heard  the  parties'  statements  :  he 
paid  the  most  particular  attention  with  the  view  of  having 
matters  definitely  fixed  in  his  mind,  and  then,  being  a  lawyer 
and  a  good  judge  of  the  article  proof,  he  was  able  to  refer 
his  statement  to  the  proper  points,  and  to  know  the  relevancy 
and  bearing  of  the  facts  on  the  case.  He  was  fluent,  easy, 
unembarrassed,  though  somewhat  earnest  of  manner  and 
speech,  and  had  a  lively  talent  for  affidavit  elocution,  and  a 
considerable  power  of  compendious,  terse  and  vigorous  nar- 
rative in  that  department  of  forensic  eloquence.  It  afi'ords 
us  pleasure  to  be  able  to  pay  this  deserved  meed  of  justice 
to  an  old  friend  and  associate.  Some  men  are  niggardly  of 
praise.     Not  so  this  author. 

This  marked  fidelity  to  the  interests  of  his  clients  had 
made  Mr.  Tee  somewhat  familiar  with  the  witness  box,  and 
the  result  had  almost  universally  been  a  speedy  disposal  of 
the  matter  involved  in  the  controversy  in  favor  of  his  cli- 
ent. 

The  bar,  not  always  the  most  confiding  of  men,  nor  the 
least  querulous,  had  begun  to  find  fault  with  this  euthayiasia^ 
as  Mr.  C.  J.  Ingersoll,  in  his  Bunyan-like  style,  expresses 
it :  they  wanted  a  lawsuit  to  die  the  old  way,  and  not  by 
chloroform  process, — the  old  bull-baiting  fashion — fainting 
off  from  sheer  exhaustion,  or  overpowered  by  sheer  strength 
and  lusty  cuffs,  kicking  and  fighting  to  the  last.     And  so  they 


268  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

complamed  and  averred  it  was  to  their  great  damage^  where- 
fore they  sued  Tee  to  discoiitijiue  proceedings  of  this  sort, 
but  he  refused^  and  possibly^  still  refuses. 

A  suit  had  been  brought  by  Tee  for  a  leading  house  in 
New- York,  in  the  U.  S.  Court,  on  a  bill  of  exchange  drawn 
or  indorsed  by  a  merchant,  and  W.  Y.  Gee,  Esq.,  employed  to 
defend  it.  The  amount  was  considerable,  but  the  case  pro- 
mised to  be  more  interesting  as  involving  a  new  and  difficult 
point  in  the  Law  Merchant  upon  the  question  of  notice. 

The  case  had  been  opened  for  the  plaintiff — the  bill,  pro- 
test, depositions,  foreign  statutes,  and  so  forth,  read,  and  one 
or  two  witnesses  examined.  The  Court  had  taken  a  recess 
for  dinner — it  being  understood  or  taken  for  granted  that  the 
plaintiff  had  closed  his  case.  The  defendant  either  had  no 
witnesses  or  else  preferred  submitting  the  case  without  them, 
the  point  on  which  Mr.  fico  relied  having  been  brought  out 
by  an  unnecessary  question  propounded  by  Tee  to  his  own 
witness. 

After  the  meeting  of  the  Court,  Mr.  Gee,  who  was  a  lit- 
tle near-sighted,  was  Deen  before  the  bar,  leisurely  arranging 
a  small  library  of  books  he  had  collected,  and  by  the  aid  of 
wrhich  he  wag  to  argue  the  point  on  the  notice.  Having  ac- 
complished this  to  his  satisfaction,  he  leaned  his  head  on  his 
nand  and  was  absorbed  in  profound  cogitation — like  an  Epis- 
copal clergyman  before  the  sermon.  The  court  interrupted 
iim  in  this  meditation  by  announcing  its  readiness  to  proceed 
with  the  cause.     Gee  rose  and  remarked  to  the  Court  that 


MR.  TEE    AND    MR.  GEE.  269 

the  defence  was  one  of  pure  law,  and  he  should  raise  the  only- 
question  he  meant  to  make  by  a  demurrer  to  the  plaintiff's 
evidence.  "  Not  until  the  plaintiff  gets  through  his  proof,  I 
reckon,"  said  Mr.  Tee.  ''  Why,  I  thought  you  had  rested," 
replied  Mr.  Gee.  ''  Yes,"  said  Tee,  "  I  did  rest  a  little,  and 
am  now  tired  resting,  and  will  proceed  to  labor — Clerk,  swear 

ME." 

Gee  jumped  from  his  seat  and  rushed  towards  Tee — - 
"  Now  Tee,"  said  he — "  just  this  one  time,  if  you  please,  for- 
bear, for  Heaven's  sake — come  now,  be  reasonable — it  is  the 
prettiest  point  as  it  stands  I  ever  saw — the  principle  is  real- 
ly important — don't  spoil  it.  Tee."  But  Tee,  fending  Gee  off 
with  one  hand,  held  out  the  other  for  the  book.  Gee  grew 
more  earnest — "  Tee,  Tee,  old  fellow — I  say  now,  look  here, 
Tee.  don't  do  this,  this  time — ^just  hold  off  for  a  minute — 
come,  listen  to  reason — now  come,  come,  let  this  case  be  an 
exception — you  said  you  were  through — if  you  will  just  stand 
off  I  won't  demur  you  out  any  more." 

But  Tee  was  not  to  be  held  off — he  repeated,  '*  Clerk, 
swear  me,  I  must  discharge  my  professional  duties." 

Gee  retired  in  disgust^  not  waiting  to  hear  the  result — 
barely  remarking,  that  if  it  came  to  that^  Tee  would  cover 
the  case  like  a  confession  of  judgment  and  the  statute  of  Jee- 
fails  besides.  We  believe  he  was  not  mistaken ;  for  his 
affidavy  carried  the  case  sailing  beyond  gun-shot  of  Gee's 
batteries. 

Gee  contented  himself  with  giving  notice  to  Tee  that  he 


270  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

should  require  bim  for  the  future  to  give  him  notice  when  he 
meant  to  testify  in  his  cases,  as  he  wished  to  be  saved  the 
trouble  of  bringing  books  and  papers  into  Court.  To  which 
Tee  replied  he  might  consider  a  general  notice  served  upon 
him  then. 


SCAN.    MAG.  271 


SCAN.  MAG. 

Patrick  McFadgin  found  himself  indicted  in  the  Cir- 
cuit Court  of  Pickens  County,  for  indu'.ging  in  sundry  Hi- 
bernian pastimes,  whereby  his  superflux  of  animal  and  ardent 
spirits  exercised  themselves  and  his  shillaly,  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  the  good  and  peaceable  citizens  and  burghers  of  the 
village  of  Pickensville,  at  to  wit,  in  said  county. 

One  Squire  Furkisson  was  a  witness  against  the  afore 
said  Patrick,  and,  upon  his  evidence  chiefly,  the  said  McFad- 
gin was  convicted  on  three  several  indictments  for  testing 
the  strength  of  his  shillaly  on  the  craniums  of  as  many  citi- 
zens ;  albeit,  Patrick  vehemently  protested  that  he  was  only 
in  fun,  '^  and  afther  running  a  rig  on  the  boys  for  amusement, 
on  a  sportive  occasion  of  being  married  to  a  female  woman 
— his  prisint  wife." 

A  more  serious  case  was  now  coming  up  against  Pat,  hav- 
ing its  origin  in  his  drawing  and  attempting  to  fire  a  pistol, 
loaded  with  powder  and  three  leaden  bullets,  which  pistol 
the  said  Patrick  in  his  right  hand  then  and  there  held,  with 
intent  one  Bodley  then  and  there  to  kill  and  murder  contra- 


272  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ry  to  the  form  of  the  statute  (it  being  highly  penal  to  mur- 
der a  man  in  Alabama  contrary  to  the  form  of  the  statute). 

To  this  indictment  Patrick  pleaded  ''  Not  guilty,"  and, 
the  jury  being  in  the  box,  the  State's  Solicitor  proceeded  to 
call  Mr.  Furkisson  as  a  witness.  With  the  utmost  innocence, 
Patrick  turned  his  face  to  the  Court  and  said,  "  Do  I  under- 
stand yer  Honor  that  Misther  Furkisson  is  to  be  a  witness 
foment  me  agin  ? "  The  judge  said  dryly,  it  seemed  so 
*'  Well,  thin,  yer  Honor,  I  plade  guilty  sure,  an'  ef  yer 
Honor  plase,  not  bccase  I  ayn  guilty,  for  I'm  as  innocent  as 
yer  Honor's  sucking  babe  at  the  brist — but  jist  on  the  ac- 
count of  saving  Misthtr  Furkisp^n's  soivV 


AN    EQUITABLE    SET-OFF.  273 


AN  EQUITABLE  SET-OFF. 

An  enterprising  young  gentleman  of  the  extensive  family 
of  Smith,  rejoicing  in  the  Christian  prefix  of  Theophilus,  and 
engaged  in  that  species  of  traffic  for  which  Kentucky  is  fa- 
mous, to  wit,  in  the  horse-trading  line,  tried  his  wits  upon  a 
man  in  the  same  community  of  the  name  of  Hickerson,  and 
found  himself  very  considerably  minus  in  the  operation ;  the 
horse  he  had  swapped  for  turning  out  to  be  worth,  by  reason 
of  sundry  latent  defects,  considerably  less  than  nothing. 

Smith  waited,  for  some  time,  for  an  opportunity  of  right- 
ing himself  in  the  premises ;  preferring  to  be  discreetly  siient 
on  the  subject  of  his  loss,  such  accidents  being  looked  upon, 
about  that  time,  by  those  with  whom  he  most  associated, 
more  as  a  matter  of  ridicule  than  sympathy.  At  length 
Mr.  Hickerson,  in  the  course  of  one  of  his  trading  forays  in 
the  neighboring  village,  had  got  a  fine  mule,  and  brought  him 
home,  well- pleased  with  his  bargain.  A  favorable  opportu- 
nity now  presented  itself  for  Mr.  Smith  to  obtain  his  revenge. 
He  adopted  the  following  plan  :  He  sent  a  complaisant  friend, 
a  Mr.  Timothy  Diggs,  over  to  Hickerson's  one  Sunday  morn- 


274  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

ing,  with  instructions.  Mr.  Diggs,  riding  leisurely  beyond  Mr. 
Hickcrson's  premises,  caught  sight  of  the  mule,  and,  turning 
towards  the  house,  saw  Mr.  Hickerson,  who  was  sitting  in  the 
porch  calmly  enjoying  those  exhilarating  reflections  which 
come  acros§  the  mind  of  a  jockey  after  a  good  trade.  "  Halloo, 
Hickerson,"  said  he,  "  I  see  you  have  got  Jones's  big  mule — ■ 
Jones  came  near  selling  him  to  me,  but  I  got  item  in  time,  and 
escaped."  "  Why,"  said  Hickerson,  "  was  any  thing  the  mat- 
ter with  the  mule?"  "  Yes,"  said  Diggs;  ^'however,  I  don't 
know  myself  that  there  was  much,  only  this;  that  the  mule  does 
very  well  except  in  the  full  of  the  moon,  and  then  he  takes  fits 
which  last  about  a  week,  hardly  ever  longer  ;  and  then  such 
rearing  and  charging,  and  biting  and  kicking !  he's  like  all 
possessed — nobody  and  nothing  can  manage  him.  Now,  the 
best  you  can  do  is  to  go  down  to  Smith's,  and  trade  him  off 
with  him  for  a  bran-new  sorrel  horse  he's  got.  ^'  Well,"  said 
Hickerson,  ^'  I'll  do  tliat  sure.  Hold  on,  and  keep  dark,  old 
fellow,  and  see  how  I'll  crack  him." 

Hickerson  accordingly  fixed  up  his  mule,  and  rode  over 
to  Mr.  Smith's,  and  after  much  chaffering,  and  many  mutual 
compliments,  in  the  French  style,  to  their  respective  animals, 
the  new  sorrel,  that  had  been  fixed  up  for  Mr.  Hickerson's 
special  benefit,  and  had  all  the  diseases  that  horseflesh  is 
heir  to,  and  some  it  gets  by  adoption,  was  exchanged  for  the 
mule. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Hickerson,  finding  Mr.  Smith 
in  company  with  some  of  the  young  gentlemen  who  could  re- 
lish humor  of  this  sort,  ventured  to  relate  this  amusing  in- 


A    COOL    REJOINDER.  275 

ciclent ;  but  when  Mr.  Smith,  who  had  quietly  awaited 
the  termination  of  the  narrative  and  the  laughter  growing 
thereout,  in  his  turn  gave  in  the  counter-plot.  Mr.  Hicker- 
son's  sensibilities  became  greatly  excited ;  and  seeking  to 
right  himself  by  the  law,  on  the  facts  coming  out,  found  that 
Mr.  Smith  had  only  obtained  an  equitable  set-off,  and  that  he 
could  not  plead  his  own  turpitude  to  regain  what  he  had  lost 
in  trying  to  come  the  old  soldier  over  another  man. 


A  COOL  REJOINDER. 

A  Mr.  Killy,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  imbibing  pretty 
freely,  at  a  court  held  in  one  of  the  counties  of  North  Ala- 
bama, upon  a  case  being  called,  in  which  K.  found  he  could 
not  get  along  for  want  of  proof,  was  asked  by  the  court  what 
course  he  would  take  in  the  matter.  "  Why,"  said  K.,  '*  if  it 
please  your  honor, 'I  believe  I  will  take  loater'"  (a  common 
expression,  signifying  that  the  person  using  it  would  take  a 
nonsuit).  Judge  A.  was  on  the  bench,  and  was  something  of 
a  wag  in  a  dry  way,  and  had  his  pen  in  his  hand  ready  to 
make  the  entry. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Judge,  "  brother  K.,  if  you  do,  you  will 
astonish  your  stomach  most  mightily." 


276  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


A  HUNG  COURT. 

Most  of  our  readers  have  heard  of  a  hung  jury,  but  have 
they  ever  heard  of  a  hung  court  ?  If  not,  I  beg  leave  to 
introduce  them  to  an  instance  of  it,  and  show  how  it  came 
about,  and  how  it  got  unhung. 

A  justice  of  the  peace  in  Alabama  has  jurisdiction  in 
cases  of  dcht^  to  the  extent  of  fifty  dollars  ;  and  there 
are  two  justices  for  every  captain's  beat.  It  was  usual, 
when  a  case  of  much  interest  came  on,  for  one  justice  to 
call  in  the  other  as  associate.      On   one  occasion,  the  little 

town  of  Splitskull,  in County,  was   thrown  into   a 

flutter  of  excitement,  by  a  suit  brought  by  one  Smith  against 
one  Johnston,  for  forty  dollars,  due  on  a  trade  for  a  jack- 
ass, but  payment  of  which  was  resisted,  on  the  plea  that  the 
jackass  turned  out  to  be  valueless.  The  parties — the  ass 
excluded — were  brothers-in-law,  and  the  '"connection  "  very 
numerous ;  the  ass,  too,  was  well  known,  and  shared  the 
usual  fate  of  notoriety — a  great  deal  of  good,  and  a  some- 
what greater  amount  of  bad,  repute.  The  issue  turned 
upon  the  worth  of  the  jack,  and  his  standing  in  the  com- 


A    HUNG    COURT.  277 

munity.  Partisan  feeling  was  a  good  deal  aroused — the 
community  grew  very  much  excited — several  fights  arose 
from  the  matter,  and  it  was  said  that  a  constable's  election 
had  been  decided  upon  the  issue  of  jackass  velnon ;  and — but 
we  doubt  this — it  was  even  reported  that  a  young  lady  in 
the  neighborhood  had  discarded  a  young  gentleman  for  the 
part  he  took  in  favor  of  the  quadruped,  differing  widely,  as 
she  did — no  doubt  honestly — on  the  merits  of  the  question, 
from  her  swain.  Unfortunately,  politics  at  that  time  were 
raging  wildly ;  and  the  name  of  the  jack  being  Dick  John- 
son, and  one  of  the  parties  being  a  whig  and  the  other  a  demo- 
crat, that  disturbing  element  was  thrown  in.  But  it  is  only 
fair  to  say,  that  the  excitement  on  the  actual  merits  of  the 
subject,  to  a  considerable  extent,  blotted  out  party  lines ;  so 
that  I  cannot  say  that  the  ass  was  seriously  injured  by  poli- 
tics— few  are.  This  controversy  got  into  the  church ;  but 
the  church  had  soon  to  drop  it — two  of  the  preachers  hav- 
ing got  to  fisticuffs,  and  made  disclosures  on  each  other, 
&c.,  &c.,  the  danger  being  that  it  would  break  up  the  con- 
gregation. 

It  got,  at  length,  into  the  lawyers'  hands  ;  and  then,  of 
course,  all  hopes  of  a  settlement  of  the  controversy,  except 
in  one  way,  were  at  an  end. 

After  the  parties  employed  their  lawyers,  the  note  of 
busy  preparation  rang  more  loudly  throughout  the  settle- 
ment. Forty  witnesses  a  side  were  subpoenaed.  The  peo- 
ple turned  out  as  to  a  muster.  The  pro-ass  party,  and  the 
anti-ass  party  made  themselves  busy  in  getting  things  ready 


278  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

for  trial.  The  justices  preserved  an  air  of  mysterious  and 
dignified  impartiality,  and  all  attempts  to  sound  them  on 
the  question  proved  abortive.  Little  Billy  Perkins,  who 
taught  a  singing  school  in  the  neighborhood,  and  who  had 
many  arts  and  many  opportunities  for  ingratiating  himself 
with  the  wife  and  daughters  of  Squire  Crousehorn,  did  get, 
he  used  afterwards  to  boast,  some  little  item,  in  a  private 
way,  as  to  the  leaning  of  that  jurist ;  and,  on  the  strength 
of  it,  laid  a  wager  of  a  set  of  singing  books  and  a  tuning- 
fork,  against  twenty  bushels  of  corn,  vs.  the  ass :  but  the 
wary  Squire  Rushong,  who  was  a  bachelor,  kept  his  own 
counsel,  and  even  kept  away  from  all  the  quiltings  and  shuck- 
ings,  for  fear  his  secret  might  be  wormed  out  of  him  by 
some  seducing  Delilah;  or  else,  that  he  might,  by  refusing  to 
compromise  his  judicial  character,  compromise  his  matri- 
monial prospects.  But  it  was  said  that  the  Squire  was 
sweet  on  Miss  Susan  Smith  ;  and  it  was  easy  enough  to  see, 
that  to  take  part  against  the  ass,  in  the  present  aspect  of 
affairs,  was  the  same  as  to  give  up  all  hopes  of  Miss  Susan, 
or,  what  was  tantamount  with  the  prudent  Squire — any  in- 
choate rights  or  prospective  interests  in  her  father's  estate. 
And  it  was  whispered  about  by  some  of  the  anti-ass  party, 
that,  considering  how  cold  Miss  Susan  had  been  to  the  Squire 
before,  there  was  something  suspiciously  sweet  in  the  way 
she  smiled  on  him  as  he  helped  her  into  the  ox-wagon  from 
the  church  door,  when  she  was  about  leaving  for  home. 
But  I  dare  say  this  was  mere  imagination.  The  plaintiff, 
Smith,  was  fortunate  enough  to  employ  Tom  B.  Devill,  an 


A    HUNG    COURT.  279 

old  lawyer  who  had  great  experience  in  the  courts  of  the 
county,  especially  in  such  fancy  cases  as  the  present;  and 
was  justly  distinguished  throughout  all  that  neck  of  woods, 
for  having  the  most  '•  libellious"  tongue  in  all  that  region  : 
while  the  rival  faction  were  thrown  upon  young  Ned  Boiler, 
a  promising  disciple  in  the  same  department  of  the  profes- 
sion ;  and  who  was  considered  as  a  ''  powerful  judge  of  law," 
especially  of  ''  statue  law,"  but  who  had  not  the  same  experi- 
ence in  the  conduct  of  such  important  and  delicate  litiga- 
tion. Great  was  the  exultation  of  the  pro-assites,  when  it 
was  announced  that  their  messenger — though  the  others  had 
got  to  the  court-house  first — had  seen  the  Squire  Tom  B.  be- 
fore their  adversary ;  the  pro-assite  messenger,  by  sharp 
foresight,  having  made  his  way  straight  to  the  grocery  where 
Tom  was,  and  the  other,  by  a  strange  mistake  as  to  his 
whereabouts,  going  to  his  office  to  find  him.  The  pro-ass- 
ites swore  there  was  no  use  in  carrying  the  thing  further — • 
it  was  as  good  as  decided  already — for  ''  Tom  B.  Devill  could 
sliykeen  and  bullyrag  Ned  Boiler's  shirt  off,  and  give  him  two 
in  the  game."  Anti-ass  stock  fell  in  the  market,  and  there 
was  even  some  feeler  put  out  for  a  ^'  comjpP — but  the  proposi- 
tion was  indignantly  rejected. 

The  canvassing  of  the  witnesses,  and  preparations  for 
trial,  pla3^ed  the  very  mischief  with  the  harmony  of  the 
settlement.  The  people  had  come  In  from  one  of  the  older 
Southern  States,  for  the  most  part,  and  were  known  to  each 
other,  and  had  been  for  many  years,  and  before  they  had  come 
out : — unfortunately,  being  known  has  its  disadvantages  as 


280  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

well  as  advantages.  Such  revelations  !  Some  had  run  off 
for  debt,  some  for  stealing — some  had  done  one  thing,  some 
another  ;  and  even  the  women  were  not  spared — and,  of  the 
rising  generation — but  I  spare  these  details. 

The  plaintiff,  knowing  the  advantage  of  having  a  per- 
secuted individual  in  view  of  the  evidence,  had  brought 
Dick  Johnson  under  a  subjjxna  duces  teciiin^  on  the  ground ; 
and  the  groom,  Hal  Piles,  made  him  go  through  the  motions 
very  grandly — rearing  up — braying  his  loudest,  and  kicking 
up  other  rustics,  indicating  a  great  flow  of  animal  spirits, 
and  great  vivacity  of  manners.  Accompanying  all  which 
performances,  HaPs  ready  witticisms — which  he  had  picked 
up  at  his  various  stands — though  not  remarkable  for  refine- 
ment, seemed  to  excite  no  little  merriment  in  the  crowd 
around,  well  qualified  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  such  rhetor- 
ical flourishes  and  intellectual  entertainment. 

The  trial  came  on.  It  lasted  several  days.  The  place 
of  the  trial  was  the  back-room  of  the  grocery,  the  crowd 
standing  outside  or  in  the  front-room  ;  but  this  not  affording 
space  enough,  it  was  adjourned  to  the  grove  in  front  of  the 
meeting-house  ;  and  ropes  drawn  around  an  area  in  front  for 
the  lawyers,  Court,  and  witnesses.  The  case  was  carried 
through,  at  last,  even  to  the  arguments  of  the  learned  bar- 
risters ;  but  these  we  cannot  give,  as  we  were  not  present 
at  the  trial,  and  might  d(^  injustice  to  the  eminent  counsel, 
by  reporting  their  speeches  second-hand.  It  is  enough  to 
say,  that  old  Devill  did  his  best,  and  fully  sustained  his 
reputation ;  while  Boiler  not  only  met  the  expectations  of 


A    HUiSG    COURT.  281 

his  friends,  but  acquitted  himself  in  the  blackguarding  line 
so  admirably,  that  even  old  Tom  B.  Devill  asked  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Court :  an  appeal  he  had  never  made  before. 

At  length  the  case  was  put  to  the  justices,  and  they 
withdrew  to  consider  of  their  judgment.  They  remained 
out,  in  consultation,  for  a  good  while.  The  anxiety  of  the 
crowd  and  the  parties  was  intense,  and  kept  growing,  the 
longer  they  staid  out.  A  dozen  bets  were  taken  on  the 
result ;  and  fourteen  fights  were  made  up,  to  take  place  as 
soon  as  the  case  was  decided.  At  least  twenty  men  had 
deferred  getting  drunk,  until  they  could  hear  the  issue  of  this 
great  suit. 

The  justices  started  to  return  to  their  places — and  '^  here 
they  come,"  being  cried  out,  the  crowd  (or  rather  crowds 
scattered  about  the  hamlet)  came  rushing  up  from  all  quar- 
ters to  hear  the  news. 

Silence  being  ordered  by  the  constable,  you  might  have 
seen  a  hundred  open  mouths  (as  if  hearing  were  taken  in  at 
that  hole)  gaping  over  the  rope  against  which  the  crowd 
pressed.  Justice  Crousehorn  hemmed  three  times,  and  then, 
with  a  tremulous  voice,  announced  that  the  ^'  Court  ar  hung," 
— one  and  one.  Now  here  was  a  fix.  What  was  to  be 
done?  In  vain  the  "Digest"  was  looked  into;  in  vain 
''Smith's  Justice"  was  searched.  Nothing  could  be  found 
to  throw  light  on  the  matter.  The  case  had  to  be  tried :  if 
decided  either  way,  ''  there  was  abundance  of  authority,"  as 
Rushong  well  suggested,  to  show  that  the  defeated  party 
could  appeal :  but  here  there  was  no  judgment.     Ned  Boler 


282     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

insisted  tliat  tlie  defendant  had  really  gained  the  case, 
as  the  plaintiff  must  show  himself  entitled  to  judgment  be- 
fore he  could  get  it ;  and  likened  it  to  a  case  of  failure  of 
proof:  but,  on  this  point,  the  Court  divided  again.  Tom 
B.  Devill  argued  that  the  plaintiff  was  entitled  to  judg- 
ment, as  he  had  the  justice  issuing  the  warrant  in  his  favor, 
and  the  associate  vras  only  called  in  as  vice-justice,  or,  at 
most,  as  supplementary,  and  supernumerary,  and  advisory: 
and  likened  it  to  the  case  of  a  President  of  the  United  States 
differing  from  his  cabinet.    But  here  the  Court  divided  again. 

The  crowd  outside  now  raised  a  terrible  row,  disputing 
as  to  who  had  won  the  bets — the  betters  betting  on  particular 
side's  winning,  contending  that  they  had  not  lost,  as  such  a 
thing  as  a  hung  court  "wasn't  took  into  the  calcuy — but 
their  adversaries  claimed  that  the  bet  was  to  be  literally 
construed. 

At  length  a  brilliant  idea  struck  Mr.  Justice  Crouse- 
horn — which  was,  that  his  brother  Rushong  should  sit  and 
give  judgment  alone,  and  then,  afterwards,  that  he,  Crouse- 
horn,  should  sit  and  grant  a  new  trial.  Accordingly,  this 
was  agreed  to.  Justice  Rushong  took  the  bench,  and  Squire 
Crousehorn  retired.  The  former  then  gave  judgment  for 
the  plaintiff;  which  the  crowd,  not  knowing  the  arrange- 
ment, hearing,  the  pro-assites  raised  a  deafening  shout  of 
triumph,  in  which  Dick  Johnson  joined  with  one  of  his 
loudest  and  longest  brays.  But  brother  Crousehorn,  tak- 
ing the  seat  of  justice,  speedily  checked  these  manifesta- 
tions  of  applause,  by  announcing  he    had  granted  a  new 


A    HUNG    COURT.  283 

trial,  which  caused  the  anti-assites  to  set  up  a  counter- 
shout,  in  which  Richard  also  joined.  So  the  cause  was  got- 
ten back  again  to  where  it  was  before,  and  then  was  continued 
for  further  proceedings. 

But  what  was  to  be  done  with  the  case  now  ?  If  tried 
again,  the  same  result  would  happen,  and  there  was  no  elec- 
tion of  new  justices  for  eighteen  months ;  the  costs,  in  the 
mean  time,  amounting  to  an  enormous  sum.  The  lawyers 
now  got  together,  and  settled  it.  Each  party  was  to  pay 
his  own  costs — Tom  B.  Devill  took  the  jackass  for  his  fee, 
and  was  to  pay  Ned  Boiler  ten  dollars  of  his  fee,  and  the 
forty  dollar  note  was  to  be  paid  to  the  plaintiff:  an  arrange- 
ment whereby  the  parties  only  lost  about  fifty  dollars  a-piece, 
besides  the  amount  in  controversy.  But  the  heart-burnings 
and  excitement  the  great  trial  left,  were  incapable  of  com- 
promise, and  so  they  remain  to  this  day. 

But  this  trial  was  the  making  of  Ned  Boiler.  His  prac- 
tice immediately  rose  from  %7o  to  §350  a  year.  And  to 
this  day,  so  strong  was  the  effect  of  his  speech,  that  when 
the  Splltskullers  want  an  hyperbole  to  express  a  compliment 
to  a  speech,  they  say  it  was  "  nearly  equal  to  Ned  Boiler's 
great  speech  against  the  jackass." 


284      SKETCHES  or  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAM 


SAMUEL  HELE,  ESQ. 

I  CANNOT  omit  Sam  from  my  gallery  of  daubs.  I  should  feel 
a  sense  of  incompleteness,  grieving  the  conscience  with  a  feel- 
ing of  duty  undischarged  and  opportunities  neglected,  such 
as  Cave  Burton  would  have  felt  had  he  risen  from  table  with 
an  oyster-pie  untouched  before  him. 

Of  all  the  members  of  the  bar,  Sam  cultivated  most  the 
faculty  of  directness.  He  could  tolerate  nothing  less  than 
its  absence  in  others.  He  knew  nothing  of  circumlocution. 
He  had  as  soon  been  a  tanner's  horse,  and  walked  all  his  life 
pulled  by  a  pole  and  a  string,  around  a  box,  in  a  twenty-foot 
ring,  as  to  be  mincing  words,  hinting  and  hesitating,  and  pick- 
ing out  soft  expressions.  He  liked  the  most  vigorous  words ; 
the  working  words  of  the"  language.  He  thought  with  re- 
markable clearness ;  knew  exactly  what  he  was  going  to  say; 
meant  exactly  what  he  said  ;  and  said  exactly  what  he  meant. 
A  sea-captain  with  his  cargo  insured,  would  as  soon  have 
made  a  "deviation"  and  forfeited  the  insurance,  as  Sam,  es- 
pecially when  in  pursuit  of  a  new  idea,  would  have  wandered 
for  a  minute  from  his  straight  course.     His  sense  was  strong, 


SAMUEL    HELEj  ESQ.  285 

discriminating,  and  relevant.  Swift  was  not  more  English  in 
his  sturdy,  peremptory  handling  of  a  subject,  than  Sam  ;  nor 
more  given  to  varnish  and  mollifying.  He  tore  the  feathers 
off  a  subject,  as  a  wholesale  cook  at  a  restaurant  does  the  plu- 
mage off  a  fowl,  when  the  crowd  are  clamorously  bawling  for 
meat.  Sam  was  well  educated  and  well  informed.  But  his 
memory  had  never  taken  on  more  matter  than  his  mind  assimi- 
lated. He  had  no  use  for  any  information  that  he  could  not 
work  into  his  thought.  He  had  a  great  contempt  for  all  pre- 
judices except  his  own,  and  was  entirely  uncramped  by  other 
people's  opinions,  or  notions,  or  whims,  or  fancies,  or  desires. 
The  faculty  of  veneration  was  not  only  wanting,  but  there 
was  a  hole  where  there  ought  to  have  been  a  bump.  Prestige 
was  a  thing  he  didn't  understand.  Family  he  had  no  idea 
of,  except  as  a  means  of  procreation,  and  he  would  have  res- 
pected a  man  as  much  or  as  little,  if,  improving  on  the  modern 
spirit  of  progress,  he  had  been  hatched  out  in  a  retort  by  a 
chemical  process,  as  if  he  had  descended  from  the  Plantagenets, 
with  all  the  quarterings  right,  and  no  bar  sinister.  He  had 
no  respect  for  old  things,  and  not  much  for  old  persons. 
Established  institutions  he  looked  into  as  familiarly  as  into  a 
horse's  mouth,  and  with  about  as  much  respect  for  their  age. 
He  would,  if  he  could,  have  wiped  out  the  Chancery  system,  or 
the  whole  body  of  the  common  law,  "  the  perfection  of  human 
reason,"  as  he  would  an  ink  blot  dropped  on  the  paper  as  he 
was  draughting  a  bill  to  abolish  them.  He  had  no  tender- 
ness for  the  creeds  or  superstitions  of  others.  A  man,  ten- 
der-toed on  the  matter  of  favorite  hobbies,  had  better  not  be 


286  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

in  Sam's  neighborhood.  If  he  cherished  any  mysteries  and 
tendernesses  of  belief  that  the  strong  sunlight  of  common  sense 
caused  to  blink  in  the  eyes,  Sam  was  no  pleasant  companion 
to  commune  with  ;  for  Sam  would  drag  them  from  the  twi- 
light as  he  would  an  owl,  into  noonday,  and  laugh  at  the 
figure  they  cut  in  the  sunshine.  A  delicately-toned  spiritu- 
alist felt,  when  Sam  was  handling  his  brittle  wares,  as  a  fine 
lady  would  feel,  on  seeing  a  blacksmith  with  smutty  fingers 
taking  out  of  her  box,  her  complexion,  laces  and  finery. 

Doctor  Samuel  Johnson  objected  to  some  one  "  that  there 
was  no  salt  in  his  talk;"  he  couldn't  have  said  that  of  Sam's 
discourse.  It  not  only  contained  salt,  but  salt-petre  :  for 
probably,  as  many  vigorous,  brimstone  expressions  proceed- 
ed from  Sam's  mouth,  as  from  any  body  else's,  the  peculiar 
patron  of  brimstone  fireworks  only  excepted. 

The  faculty  of  the  wonderful  did  not  hold  a  large  place 
on  Sam's  cranium.  He  believed  that  every  thing  that  was 
marvellous  was  a  lie,  unless  he  told  it  himself;  and  sometimes 
even  then,  he  had  his  doubts.  He  only  wondered  on  one  sub- 
ject :  and  that  was,  that  there  always  happened  to  be  about 
him  such  "  a  hell  of  a  number  of  d — d  fools ;"  and  this  won- 
der was  constant,  deriving  new  strength  every  day ;  and  he 
wondered  again  at  his  inability  to  impress  this  comfortable 
truth  upon  the  parties  whom  he  so  frequently,  in  every  form 
and  every  where,  and  especially  in  their  presence,  sought  to 
make  realize  its  force  and  wisdom,  by  every  variety  of  illus- 
tration ;  by  all  the  eloquence  of  earnest  conviction  and  solemn 
asseveration. 


SAMUEL    IIELE,  ESQ.  287 

If  Sam  had  a  sovereign  contempt  for  any  one  more  than 
another,  it  was  for  Sir  William  Blackstone,  whom  he  regard- 
ed as  "  something  between  a  sneak  and  a  puke,"  and  for 
whose  superstitious  veneration  of  the  common  law  he  felt 
about  the  same  sympathy  that  Gen.  Jackson  felt  for  Mr. 
Madison's  squeamishness  on  the  subject  of  blood  and  car- 
nage, which  the  hero  charged  the  statesman  with  not  being 
able  ^'  to  look  on  witlt  composure'''^ — (he  might  as  well  have 
said,  pleasure). 

Squire  Sam  was  of  a  good  family — a  circumstance  he  a 
good  deal  resisted,  as  some  infringement  on  his  privileges. 
He  would  have  preferred  to  have  been  born  at  large,  without 
any  particular  maternity  or  paternity ;  it  would  have  been 
less  local  and  narrow,  and  more  free  and  roomy,  and  cos- 
mopolitan. 

There  had  once  been  good  living  in  the  family.  This  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that  Sam  had  the  gout ;  which  proof, 
indeed,  except  vague  traditions,  which  Sam  rejected  as  un- 
worthy of  a  sensible  man's  belief,  is  the  only  evidence  of 
this  matter  of  domestic  economy.  Sam  thought  particularly 
hard  of  this ;  he  considered  it  a  monstrous  outrage,  that  the 
only  portion  of  the  prosperous  fortunes  of  his  house  which 
fell  to  his  share,  should  have  been  a  disease  which  had  long 
survived  the  causes  of  it.  As  his  teeth  were  set  on  edge, 
he  thought  it  only  fair  he  should  have  had  a  few  of  the 
grapes. 

Sam's  estimate  of  human  nature  was  not  extravagant. 
He  was  not  an  optimist.     He  had  not  much  notion  of  human 


288  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

perfectibility.  He  was  not  apt  to  be  carried  away  by  bis 
feelings  into  any  very  overcharged  appreciation  either  of 
particular  individuals  or  the  general  race.  I  never  heard 
him  say  what  he  thought  would  eventually  become  of  most 
of  them ;  but  it  was  very  evident,  from  the  tenor  of  his  un- 
stinted talk,  what  he  thought  ought  to  become  of  them,  if 
transmundane  affairs  were  regulated  by  principles  of  human 
justice. 

The  particular  community  in  which  the  Squire  had  set  up 
his  shingle  was  not,  even  in  the  eyes  of  a  more  partial  judg- 
ment than  he  was  in  the  habit  of  exercising  upon  men,  ever 
supposed  to  be  colonized  by  the  descendants  of  the  good 
Samaritan  ;  and  if  they  continued  perverse,  and  persevered 
in  iniquity,  it  was  not  Sam's  fault — he  did  his  duty  by 
them.  He  cursed  them  black  and  blue,  by  night  and  by 
day.  He  spared  not.  In  these  divertisements  he  exercised 
his  faculties  of  description,  prophecy  and  invective,  largely. 
The  humbugs  suffered.  Sam  vastated  them,  as  Swedenborg 
says  they  do  with  them  in  the  other  world,  until  he  left  little 
but  a  dark,  unsavory  void,  in  souls,  supposed  by  their  owners 
to  be  stored  up,  like  a  warehouse,  with  rich  bales  of  heavenly 
merchandise.  He  pulled  the  dominos  from  their  faces,  and 
pelted  the  hollow  masks  over  their  heads  lustily.  These 
pursuits,  laudable  as  they  may  be,  are  not,  in  the  present 
constitution  of  village  society,  winning  ways  ;  and  therefore 
I  cannot  truly  say  that  Sam's  popularity  was  universal ;  nor 
did  it  make  up  by  intensity  in  particular  directions,  what  it 
lacked  of  diffusion.  Indeed,  I  may  go  so  far  as  to  say,  that 
it  was  remarkable  neither  for  surface  nor  depth. 


SAMUEL    HELEj  ESQ.  289 

It  is  a  profound  truth,  that  the  wounds  of  vanity  are 
galling  to  a  resentful  temper,  and  that  few  people  feel  much 
obliged  to  a  man  who,  purely  from  a  love  of  truth,  convinces 
the  public  that  they  are  fools  or  knaves ;  or  who  excites  a 
doubt  in  themselves  touching  the  right  solution  of  this  prob- 
lem of  mind  and  morals.  Hence  I  may  be  allowed  to  doubt 
whether  Sam's  industr}-  and  zeal  in  these  exercises  of  his 
talents — whatever  effect  they  may  have  had  on  the  commu- 
nity— essentially  advanced  this  gentleman's  personal  or  pe- 
cuniary fortunes.  However,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
this  result,  so  far  from  grieving,  rather  pleased  the  Squire. 
Having  formed  his  own  estimate  of  himself,  he  preferred 
that  that  estimate  should  stand,  and  not  be  shaken  by  a  ca- 
incidence  of  opinion  on  the  part  of  those  whose  judgments 
in  favor  of  a  thing  he  considered  was  pretty  good  prwia 
facie  evidence  against  it. 

Sam's  disposition  to  animadvert  upon  the  community 
about  him,  found  considerable  aggravation  in  a  state  of  ill 
health  ;  inflaming  his  gout,  and  putting  the  acerbities  and 
horrors  of  indigestion  to  the  long  account  of  other  pro- 
vocatives, of  a  less  physical  kind,  to  these  displays.  For  a 
while,  Sam  dealt  in  individual  instances ;  but  this  soon 
grew  too  tame  and  insipid  for  his  growing  appetite;  for 
invective  is  like  brandy — the  longer  it  is  indulged  in,  the 
larger  and  stronger  must  be  the  dose.  Sam  began  to  take 
them  wholesale  ;  and  he  poured  volley  after  volley  into  the 
devoted  village,  until  you  would  have  thought  it  in  a  state 
^f  siege. 

13 


290  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

There  had,  a  few  days  before,  been  a  new  importation 
from  Yankeedom — not  from  its  factory  of  calicoes,  but  from 
its  factory  of  school-teachers.  The  article  had  been  sent  to 
order,  from  one  of  tlie  interior  villages  of  Connecticut.  The 
Southern  propensity  of  getting  every  thing  from  abroad,  had 
extended  to  school-mistresses, — though  the  country  had  any 
number  of  excellent  and  qualified  girls  wishing  such  employ- 
ment at  home, — as  if,  as  in  the  case  of  wines,  the  process  of 
importing  added  to  the  value.  It  was  soon  discovered  that 
this  article  was  a  bad  investment,  and  would  not  suit  the 
market.  Miss  Charity  Woodey  was  almost  too  old  a  plant 
to  be  safely  transplanted.  What  she  had  been  in  her  youth 
could  not  be  exactly  known ;  but  if  she  ever  had  any  charms, 
their  day  had  long  gone  by.  I  do  not  mean  to  flatter  her 
when  I  say  I  think  she  was  the  ugliest  woman  I  ever  saw — 
and  I  have  been  in  places  where  saying  that  would  be 
saying  a  good  deal.  Her  style  of  homeliness  was  peculiar 
only  in  this — that  it  embraced  all  other  styles.  It  is  a 
wonderful  combination  which  makes  a  beautiful  woman ; 
but  it  was  almost  a  miracle,  by  which  every  thing  that  gives 
or  gilds  beauty  was  withheld  from  her,  and  every  thing  that 
makes  or  aggravates  deformity  was  given  with  lavish  gen- 
erosity. We  suppose  it  to  be  a  hard  struggle  when  female 
vanity  can  say,  hope,  or  think  nothing  in  favor  of  its  owner's 
personal  appearance  ;  but  Miss  Charity  had  got  to  this  point : 
indeed,  the  power  of  human  infatuation  on  this  subject — for. 
even  it  is  not  omnipotent — could  not  help  her  in  this  matter. 
She  did   not  try  to  conceal  it,  but  let   the   matter  pass, 


SAMUEL    HELE,  ESQ.  291 

as  if  it  were  a  thing  not  worth  the  trouble  of  thinking 
about. 

3Iiss  Charity  was  one  of  those  ^'  strong-minded  women 
of  Xew  England,"  who  exchange  all  the  tenderness  of  the 
feminine  for  an  impotent  attempt  to  attain  the  efficiency  of 
the  masculine  nature  ;  one  of  that  fussy,  obtrusive,  meddling 
class,  who,  in  trying  to  douhle-sex  themselves,  imsex  them- 
selves, losing  all  that  is  lovable  in  woman,  and  getting  most 
of  what  is  odious  in  man. 

She  was  a  bundle  of  prejudices — stiff,  literal,  positive, 
inquisitive,  inquisitorial,  and  biliously  pious.  JDootjj  as  she 
called  it,  was  a  great  word  with  her.  Conscience  was  an- 
other. These  were  engaged  in  the  police  business  of  life, 
rather  than  the  heart  and  the  affections.  Indeed,  she 
considered  the  affections  as  weaknesses,  and  the  morals  a 
sort  of  drill  exercise  of  minor  duties,  and  observances, 
and  cant  phrases.  She  was  as  blue  as  an  indigo  bag.' 
The  starch,  strait-laced  community  she  came  from,  she 
thought  the  very  tip  of  the  ton ;  and  the  little  coterie  of 
masculine  women  and  female  men — with  its  senate  of  sewing 
^  societies,  cent  societies,  and  general  congress  of  missionary 
and  tract  societies — the  parliaments  that  rule  the  world. 
Lower  Frothingham,  and  Deacon  "Windy,  and  old  Parson 
Beachman,  and  all  the  young  Beachmans,  constituted,  in  her 
eyes,  a  sort  of  Puritanic  See,  before  which  she  thought 
Rome  was  in  a  state  of  continual  fear  and  flutter. 

She  had  come  out  as  a  missionary  of  light  to  the  chil- 
dren of  the  South,  who  dwell  in  the  darkness  of  Heathen- 


292     SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

esse.  It  was  not  long — only  two  days — before  she  began  to 
set  every  thing  to  rights.  The  whole  academy  was  astir 
with  her  activity.  The  little  girls,  who  had  been  petted  by 
their  fathers  and  mothers  like  doll-babies,  were  overhauled 
like  so  niuch  damaged  goods  by  her  busy  fingers,  and  were 
put  into  the  strait-jacket  of  her  narrow  and  precise  system 
of  manners  and  morals,  in  a  way  the  pretty  darlings  had 
never  dreamed  of  before.  Her  way  was  the  Median  and 
Persian  law  that  never  changed,  and  to  which  every  thing 
must  bend.  Every  thing  was  wrong.  Every  thing  must 
be  put  right.  Her  hands,  eyes,  and  tongue  were  never  idle 
for  a  moment,  and  in  her  microscopic  sense  of  dootj  and 
conscience,  the  little  peccadilloes  of  the  school  swelled  to  the 
dimensions  of  great  crimes  and  misdemeanors. 

It  was  soon  apparent  that  she  would  have  to  leave,  or  the 
school  be  broken  up.  Like  that  great  reformer  Triptolemus 
Yellowby,  she  was  not  scant  in  delivering  her  enlightened 
sentiments  upon  the  subject  of  matters  and  things  about 
her,  and  on  the  subject  of  slavery  in  particular ;  and  her 
sentiments  on  this  subject  were  those  of  the  enlightened 
coterie  from  which  she  came. 

The  very  consideration  with  which,  in  the  unbounded 
hospitality  and  courtesy  to  woman  in  the  South-West,  she  was 
treated,  only  served  to  inflame  her  self-conceit,  and  to  con- 
firm her  in  her  sense  of  what  her  dooij  called  on  her  to  do, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  natives ;  especially  to  reforming  things 
to  the  standard  of  New  England  insular  habitudes. 

A  small  party  was  given  one  evening,  and   she  was  in- 


SAMUEL  HELE,  ESQ.  293 

vited.  She  came.  There  were  some  fifteen  or  twenty  per- 
sons of  both  sexes  there ;  among  them  our  friend  Sam,  and 
a  few  of  the  young  men  of  the  place.  The  shocking  fact  must 
be  related,  that,  on  a  sideboard  in  the  back  parlor  was  set 
out  something  cold,  besides  solid  refreshments,  to  which  the 
males  who  did  not  belong  to  the  "  Sons"  paid  their  respects. 
A  little  knot  of  these  were  laughing  and  talking  around 
Sam,  who,  as  usual,  was  exerting  himself  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  auditors,  and,  this  time,  in  good  humor.  Some 
remarks  were  made  touching  Miss  Charity,  for  whose  soli- 
tary state — she  was  sitting  up  in  the  corner  by  herself,  stiff 
as  steelyards-^some  commiseration  was  expressed  ;  and  it 
was  proposed  that  Sam  should  entertain  her  for  the  evening. 
And  it  was  suggested  to  Sam  that  he  should  try  his  best  to 
get  her  off,  by  giving  her  such  a  description  of  the  country 
as  would  have  that  effect.  "  Now,"  said  one  of  them,  ^'  Sam, 
you've  been  snarling  at  every  thing  about  you  so  long,  sup- 
pose you  just  try  your  best  this  time,  and  let  off  all  your 
surplus  bile  at  once,  and  give  us  some  peace.  Just  go  up 
to  her,  and  let  her  have  it  strong.  Don't  spare  brush  or 
blacking,  but  paint  the  whole  community  so  black,  that  the 
Devil  himself  might  sit  for  the  picture."  Sam  took  a  glass, 
and  tossing  it  off,  wiped  his  mouth,  after  a  slight  sigh  of 
satisfaction,  and  promised,  with  pious  fervor,  that,  ''  by  the 
blessing  Df  Heaven,  he  would  do  his  best." 

One  of  the  company  went  to  Miss  Charity,  and,  after 
speaking  in  the  highest  terms  of  Sam,  as  a  New  England 
man,  and  as  one  of  the  most  intellectual,  and  reliable,  and 


294  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

frank  men  in  the  country,  and  one,  moreover,  who  had  con- 
ceived a  lively  regard  for  her,  asked  leave  to  introduce  him ; 
which  having  been  graciously  given,  Sam  (having  first  re- 
freshed himself  with  another  potation)  was  in  due  form 
introduced. 

Miss  Woodey,  naturally  desirous  of  conciliating  Squire 
Hele,  opened  the  conversation  with  that  gentleman,  after 
the  customary  formalities,  by  saying  something  complimen- 
tary about  the  village.  ''  And  you  say,  madam,"  replied 
Sam,  "  that  you  have  been  incarcerated  in  this  village  for 
two  weeks;  and  how,  madam,  have  you  endured  it?  Ah, 
madam,  I  am  glad,  on  some  accounts,  to  see  you  here.  You 
came  to  reform  :  it  was  well.  Such  examples  of  female  hero- 
ism are  the  poetry  of  human  life.  They  are  worth  the  mar- 
tyrdom of  producing  them.  I  read  an  affecting  account  the 
other  day  of  a  similar  kind — a  mother  going  to  Wetumpka, 
and  becoming  the  inmate  of  a  penitentiary  for  the  melan- 
choly satisfaction  of  waiting  upon  a  convict  son."    • 

Miss  Woodey. — ''  Why,  Mr.  Hele,  how  you  talk  !  You 
are  surely  jesting." 

Sam. — "  Madam,  there  are  some  subjects  too  awfully  se- 
rious for  jest.  A  man  had  as  well  jest  over  the  corruptions 
and  fate  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah — though,  I  confess,  the 
existence  of  this  place  is  calculated  to  excite  a  great  deal  of 
doubt  of  the  destruction  of  those  cities,  and  has,  no  doubt, 
placed  a  powerful  weapon  in  the  hands  of  infidelity  through- 
out the  immense  region  where  the  infamy  of  the  place  is 
known." 


SAMTJEL    HELE,  ESQ.  295 

Miss  W. — "  Why,  Mr.  Hele,  I  have  heard  a  very  differ- 
ent account  of  the  place.  Indeed,  only  the  other  evening,  I 
heard  at  a  party  several  of  the  ladies  say  they  never  knew 
any  village  so  free  from  gossip  and  scandal." 

Sam. — '^  And  so  it  is,  madam.  Men  and  women  are  free 
of  that  vice.  I  wish  it  were  otherwise.  It  would  be  a  sign 
of  improvement, — as  a  man  with  fever  vrhen  boils  burst  out 
on  him, — an  encouraging  sign.  Madam,  the  reason  why 
there  is  no  scandal  here  is,  because  there  is  not  character 
enough  to  support  it.  Reputation  is  not  appreciated.  A 
man  without  character  is  as  well  off  as  a  man  with  it.  In 
the  dark  all  are  alike.  You  can't  hurt  a  man  here  by  say- 
ing any  thing  of  him ;  for,  say  what  you  will,  it  is  less  than 
the  truth,  and  less  than  he  could  afford  to  publish  at  the 
cour.t-house  dogr,  and  be  applauded  for  it  by  the  crowd. 
Besides,  madam-,  every  body  is  so  busy  with  his  own  villany, 
that  no  one  has  time  to  publish  his  neighbor's." 

Miss  W. — '^  Keally,  Mr.  Hele,  you  give  a  poor  account 
of  your  neighbors.  Are  there  no  honest  men  among 
them  ?  " 

SaJ7i. — "  Why, — y-e-s, — a  few.  The  lawyers  generally 
acknowledge,  and,  as  far  as  circumstances  allow,  practise,  in 
iliiiiY 2Jf'ivate  characters,  the  plainer  rules  of  morals;  but, 
really,  they  are  so  occupied  in  trying  to  carry  out  the  villany 
of  others,  they  deserve  no  credit  for  it ;  for  they  have  no 
time  to  do  any  thing  on  private  account.  There  is  also  one 
preacher,  who,  I  believe,  when  not  in  liquor,  recognizes  a 
few  of  the  rudiments  of  moral  obligation.     Indeed,   some 


296  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

think  he  is  not  blamable  for  getting  drunk,  as  he  does  it 
only  in  deference  to  the  public  sentiment.  I  express  no 
opinion  myself,  for  I  think  any  man  who  has  resided  for  ten 
years  in  these  suburbs  of  hell,  ought  modestly  to  decline  the 
expression  of  any  opinion  on  any  point  of  ethics  for  ever  af- 
terwards. 

Miss  W. — ''  But,  Mr.  Hele,  if  all  this  villany  were  going 
on,  there  would  be  some  open  evidence  of  it.  I  have  not 
heard  of  a  case  of  stealing  since  I've  been  here." 

Sa77i. — "  No,  madam ;  and  you  wouldn't,  unless  a 
stranger  came  to  town  with  something  worth  stealing;  and 
perhaps  not  then ;  for  it  is  so  common  a  thing  that  it  hardly 
excites  remark.  The  natives  never  steal  from  each  other — I 
grant  them  that.  The  reason  is  plain.  There  are  certain 
acquisitions  which,  with  a  certain  profession,  are  sacred. 
'  Honor  among,'  &c. — you  know  the  proverb.  Besides,  the 
thief  would  be  sure  to  be  caught :  '  Set  a ' — member  of  a 
certain  class — you  know  that  proverb,  too.  Moreover,  all 
they  have  got  they  got,  directly  or  indirectly,  in  that  way — 
if  getting  a  thing  by  j)urchase  without .  equivalent,  or  taking 
it  without  leave  is  stealing,  as  any  where  else  out  of  Christen- 
dom, except  this  debatable  land  between  the  lower  regions 
and  the  outskirts  of  civilization,  it  is  held  to  be.  And  to 
steal  from  one  another  would  be  repudiating  the  title  by 
which  every  man  holds  property,  and  thus  letting  the  common 
enemy,  the  true  owner,  in,  whom  all  are  interested  in  keeping 
out.  Madam,  if  New-York,  Mobile,  and  New  Orleans  were 
to  get  their  own,  they  might  inclose   the  whole  town,  and 


SAMUEL    HELE,  ESQ.  297 

label  the  walls  ^*  the  lost  and  stolen  office."  When  a  Ten- 
nesseean  comes  to  this  place  with  a  load  of  bacon,  they  con- 
sider him  a  prize,  and  divide  out  what  he  has  as  so  much 
prize  money.  They  talk  of  a  Kentucky  hog-drover  first 
coming  in  in  the  fall,  as  an  epicure  speaks  of  the  first  shad 
of  the  season." 

Miss  W. — ''  The  population  seems  to  be  intelligent 
and—" 

Sam  (with  Johnsonian  oracularity). — "  See7ns — true  ;  but 
they  are  not.  Whether  the  population  first  took  to  rascality, 
and  that  degraded  their  intellects,  or  whether  they  were 
fools,  and  took  to  it  for  want  of  sense,  is  a  problem  which  I 
should  like  to  be  able  to  solve,  if  I  could  only  find  some  one 
old  enough  to  have  known  them  when  they  first  took  to 
stealing,  or  when  they  first  began  playing  the  fool ;  but  that 
time  is  beyond  the  oldest  memory.  I  can  better  endure  ten 
rascals  than  one  fool ;  but  I  am  forced  to  endure  both  in 
one.  I  see,  in  a  recent  work,  a  learned  writer  traces  the 
genealogy  of  man  to  the  monkey  tribe.  I  believe  that  this 
is  true  of  this  population ;  for  the  characteristic  marks  of  a 
low,  apish  cunning  and  stealing,  betray  the  paternity :  but  so 
low  are  they  in  all  better  qualities,  that,  if  their  respectable 
old  ancestor  the  rib-nosed  baboon,  should  be  called  to  see 
them,  he  would  exclaim,  with  uplifted  paws,  ^  Alas,  how 
degenerate  is  my  breed  ! '  For  they  have  left  off  all  the 
good  instincts  of  the  beast,  and  improved  only  on  his 
vices." 

Miss  TF".-- -"  I  have  heard  something  of  violent  crimes, 
13* 


298  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

murders,  and  so  forth,  in  the  South-West,  but  I  have  never 
heard  this  particular  community  worse  spoken  of — " 

Sam. — ''  Madam,  I  acquit  them  of  all  crimes  which  re- 
quire any  boldness  in  the  perpetration.  As  to  assassination, 
it  occurs  only  occasionally, — when  a  countryman  is  found 
drunk,  or  something  of  the  sort ;  and  even  assaults  and  bat- 
teries are  not  common.  These  occur  only  in  the  family  cir- 
cle ;  such  as  a  boy  sometimes  whipping  his  father  when  the 
old  man  is  intoxicated,  or  a  man  whipping  his  wife  when 
she  is  infirm  of  health  :  except  these  instances,  I  cannot  say, 
with  truth,  that  any  charge  of  this  kind  can  be  substanti- 
ated.    As  to  negroes—" 

Miss  W. — ^*  Do  tell  me,  Mr.  Hele — ^how  do  they  treat 
them  ?  Is  it  as  bad  as  they  say  ?  Do — do — they, — really, 
now — " 

Hele. — "  Miss  "W.,  this  is  a  very  delicate  subject;  and 
what  I  tell  you  must  be  regarded  as  entirely  confidential. 
Upon  this  subject  there  is  a  secrecy — a  chilling  mystery  of 
silence — cast,  as  over  the  horrors  and  dungeons  of  the  in- 
quisition. The  way  negroes  are  treated  in  this  country 
would  chill-  the  soul  of  a  New  Holland  cannibal.  Why, 
madam,  it  was  but  the  other  day  a  case  occurred  over  the 
river,  on  Col.  Luke  Gyves's  plantation.  Gyves  had  just 
bought  a  drove  of  negroes,  and  was  marking  them  in  his 
pen, — a  slit  in  one  ear  and  an  underbit  in  the  other  was 
Luke's  mark, — and  a  large  mulatto  fellow  was  standing  at 
the  bull  ring,  where  the  overseer  was  just  putting  the  number 


SAMUEL    IIELE,   ESQ.  299 

on  his  back  with  the  branding-iron,  when  the  nigger  dog^ 
seeing  his  struggles,  caught  him  by  the  leg,  and  the  negro, 
mad  with,  the  pain, — I  don't  think  he  did  it  intentionally, — 
seized  the  branding-irons,  and  put  out  the  dog's — a  favorite 
Cuba  bloodhound — left  eye.  They  took  the  negro  down  to 
the  rack  in  the  plantation  dungeon-house,  and,  sending  for 
the  neighbors  to  come  into  the  entertainment,  made  a  Christ 
mas  frolic  of  the  matter.  They  rammed  a  powder-horn 
down  his  throat,  and  lighting  a  slow  match,  went  off  to  wait 
the  result.  When  gone,  Col.  Gyves  bet  Gen.  Sam  Potter 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  that  the  blast  would  blow  the 
top  of  the  negro's  head  off;  which  it  did.  Gen.  Sam  re- 
fused to  pay,  and  the  case  was  brought  into  the  Circuit  Court. 
Our  judge,  who  had  read  a  good  deal  more  of  Hoyle  than 
Coke,  decided  that  the  bet  could  not  be  recovered,  because 
Luke  bet  on  a  certainty ;  but  fined  Sam  a  treat  for  the  crowd 
for  making  such  a  foolish  wager,  and  adjourned  court  over 
to  the  grocery  to  enjoy  it." 

Miss  W. — "  Why,  Mr.  Hele,  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  that 
the  fate  of  Sodom  does  not  fall  upon  the  country." 

Sam, — "  Why,  madam,  probably  it  would,  if  a  single 
righteous  man  could  be  found  to  serve  the  notice.  However, 
many  think  that  its  irredeemable  wickedness  has  induced 
Heaven  to  withdraw  the  country  from  its  jurisdiction,  and 
remit  it  to  its  natural,  and,  at  last,  reversionary  proprietors, 
the  powers  of  hell.  It  subserves,  probably,  a  useful  end,  to 
stand  as  a  vivid  illustration  of  the  doctrine  of  total  de- 
pravity. 


300  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

3Iiss  W. — "  But,  Mr.  Hele, — do  tell  me, — do  they  now 
part  the  young  children  from  their  mothers — poor  things  ?  " 

Sa?7i. — ^'  Why,  no, — candidly, — they  do  not  very  much, 
now.  The  women  are  so  sickly,  from  overwork  and  scant 
feeding  and  clothing,  that  the  child  is  worth  little  for 
the  vague  chance  of  living.  But  when  cotton  was  fifteen 
cents  a  pound,  and  it  was  cheaper  to  take  away  the  child 
than  to  take  up  the  mother's  time  in  attending  to  it,  they 
used  to  send  them  to  town,  of  a  Sunday,  in  big  hamper 
baskets,  for  sale,  by  the  dozen.  The  boy  I  have  got  in  my 
office  I  got  in  that  way — but  he  is  the  survivor  of  six,  the 
rest  dying  in  the  process  of  raising.  There  was  a  great 
feud  between  the  planters  on  this  side  of  Sanotchie,  and 
those  on  the  other  side,  growing  out  of  the  treatment  of 
negro  children.  Those  who  sold  them  off  charged  the  other 
siders  with  inhumanity,  in  drowning  theirs,  like  blind  pup- 
pies, in  the  creek ;  which  was  resented  a  good  deal  at  the 
time,  and  the  accusers  denounced  as  abolitionists.  I  did  hear 
of  one  of  them.  Judge  Duck  Swinger,  feeding  his  nigger 
dogs  on  the  young  varmints,  as  he  called  them ;  but  I  don't 
believe  the  story,  it  having  no  better  foundation  than  cur- 
rent report,  public  belief,  and  general  assertion." 

Miss  W.  (sighing). — ''  Oh,  Mr.  Hele  !  are  they  not  afraid 
the  negroes  will  rise  on  them  ?  " 

Sam. — "  Why,  y-e-s,  they  do  occasionally,  and  murder  a 
few  families, — especially  in  the  thick  settlements, — but  less 
than  they  did  before  the  patrol  got  up  a  subscription  among 
the  planters  to  contribute  a  negro  o\  two  apiece,  every  montli 


SAMUEL    HELEj  ESQ.  301 

or  SO,  to  be  publicly  bung,  or  burned,  for  the  sake  of  example. 
A.nd,  to  illustrate  the  character  of  the  population,  let  me 
just  tell  you  how  Capt.  Sam  Hanson  did  at  the  last  hang- 
ing. Instead  of  throwing  in  one  of  his  own  negroes,  as  an 
honest  ruffian  would  have  done,  he  threw  in  yellow  Tom,  a 
free  negro  ;  another  threw  in  an  estate  negro,  and  reported 
him  dead  in  the  inventory ;  while  Squire  Bill  Measly 
painted  an  Indian  black  and  threw  him  in,  and  hung  him  for 
one  of  his  Pocahontas  negroes,  as  he  called  some  of  his  half- 
breed  stock." 

Miss  W. — '^  Mr.  Hele  !  what  is  to  become  of  the  rising 
generation — the  poor  children — I  do  feel  so  much  for  them 
— with  such  examples  ?  " 

Sa77i. — ''  Madam,  they  are  past  praying  for — there  is  one 
consolation.  Let  what  will  become  of  them,  they  will  get  less 
than  their  deserts.  Why,  madam,  such  precocious  villany 
as  theirs  the  world  has  never  seen  before  :  they  make  their 
own  fathers  ashamed  of  even  theu  attainments  and  profi- 
ciency in  mendacity  ;  they  had  good  teaching,  though.  Why, 
Miss  Woodey,  a  father  here  never  thinks  well  of  a  child 
until  the  boy  cheats  him  at  cards  :  then  he  pats  him  on  the 
head,  and  says,  '  Well  done,  Tommy,  here's  a  Y. ;  go,  buck 
it  off  on  a  horse-race  next  Sunday,  and  we'll  go  snooks — 
and,  come,  settle  fair,  and  no  cheating  around  the  board.' 
The  children  here  at  twelve  years  have  progressed  in  vil- 
lany beyond  the  point  at  which  men  get,  in  other  countries, 
after  a  life  of  industrious  rascality.  They  spent  their  rainy 
Sundays,  last  fall,  in  making  a  catechism  of  oaths  and  pro- 


302  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA, 

fanity  for  the  Indians,  whose  dialect  was  wanting  in  those 
accomplishments  of  Anglo-Saxon  literature.  There  is  not 
a  scoundrel  among  them  that  is  not  ripe  for  the  gallows  at 
fourteen.  At  five  years  of  age,  they  follow  their  fathers 
around  to  the  dram-shops,  and  get  drunk  on  the  heel-taps." 

Miss  W, — ''  The  persons  about  here  don't  look  as  if  they 
were  drunk." 

Sam. — ''  Why,  madam,  it  is  refreshing  to  hear  you  talk 
in  that  way.  No,  they  are  not  drunk.  I  wish  they  were. 
It  would  be  an  astonishing  improvement,  if  dissipation  would 
only  recede  to  that  point  at  which  men  get  drunk.  But 
they  have  passed  that  point,  long  ago.  I  should  as  soon 
expect  to  see  a  demijohn  stagger  as  one  of  them.  Besides, 
the  liquor  is  all  watered,  and  it  would  require  more  than  a 
man  could  hold  to  make  him  drunk :  but  the  grocery  keeper 
defends  himself  on  the  ground,  that  it  is  only  two  parts 
water,  and  he  never  gets  paid  for  more  than  a  third  he  sells. 
But  I  never  speak  of  these  small  things  ;  for,  in  such  a  god- 
less generation,  venial  crimes  stand  in  the  light  of  flaming 
virtues.  Indeed,  we  always  feel  relieved  when  we  see  one 
of  them  dead  drunk,  for  then  we  feel  assured  he  is  not 
stealing." 

Miss  W. — ''  But,  Mr.  Hele,  is  there  personal  danger  to 
be  apprehended — by  a  woman  ? — now — for  instance — ex- 
pressing herself  freely  ?  " 

Sa77t. — ''  No,  madam,  not  if  she  carries  her  pistols,  as 
they  generally  do  71010^  when  they  go  out.  They  are  usu- 
ally insulted,  and  sometimes  mobbed.     They  mobbed  a  Yan- 


SAMUEL  HELE,  ESQ.  303 

kee  school- mistress  here,  some  time  ago,  for  saying  something 
against  slavery :  but  I  believe  they  only  tarred  and  feathered 
her,  and  rode  her  on  a  rail  for  a  few  squares.  Indeed,  I 
heard  some  of  the  boys  at  the  grocery,  the  other  night,  talk 
of  trying  the  same  experiment  on  another  ;  but  ivho  it  was, 
I  did  not  hear  them  say." 

Here  Sam  made  his  bow  and  departed,  and,  over  a  plate 
of  oysters  and  a  glass  of  hot  stuff,  reported  progress  to  the 
meeting  whose  committee  he  was,  but  declined  leave  to  sit 
again. 

The  next  morning's  mail- stage  contained  two  trunks  and 
four  bandboxes,  and  a  Yankee  school-mistress,  ticketed  on 
the  Northern  line ;  and,  in  the  hurry  of  departure,  a  letter, 

addressed   to  Mrs.   Harriet  S ,  was   found,  containing 

some  interesting  memoranda  and  statistics  on  the  subject  of 
slavery  and  its  practical  workings,  which  I  should  never 
thought  of  again  had  I  not  seen  something  like  them  in  a 
very  popular  fiction,  or  rather  book  of  fictions,  in  which  the 
slaveholders  are  handled  with  something  less  than  feminine 
delicacy  and  something  more  than  masculine  unfairness. 

[Sam  takes  the  credit  of  sending  Miss  Charity  off,  but 
Dr.  B.,  the  principal,  negatives  this :  he  says  he  had  to  give 
her  three  hundred  dollars  and  pay  her  expenses  back  to  get 
rid  of  her;  and  that  she  received  it,  saying  she  intended  to 
return  home  and  live  at  ease,  the  balance  of  her  life,  on  the 
interest  of  the  money.] 


304  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


JOHN  STOUT  ESQ.,  AND  MARK 
SULLIVAN. 

Mark  Sullivan  was  imprisoned  in  the  Sumter  comity 
jail,  having  changed  the  venue  and  place  of  residence  from 
Washington  county,  where  he  had  committed  a  murder. 
John  Stout  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  Mark's,  and  being  of 
a  susceptible  nature  when  there  was  any  likelihood  of  a  fee, 
was  not  a  man  to  stand  on  ceremony  or  the  etiquette  of  the 
profession.  He  did  not  wait  to  be  sent  for,  but  usually  hur- 
ried post-haste  to  comfort  his  friends,  when  in  the  dis- 
consolate circumstances  of  the  unfortunate  Mark.  Johi 
had  a  great  love  for  the  profession,  and  a  remarkable  perse- 
verance under  discouraging  circumstances,  having  clung  to 
the  bar  after  being  at  least  twice  stricken  from  the  roll,  for 
some  practices  indicating  a  much  greater  zeal  for  his  clients 
than  for  truth,  justice,  or  fair  dealing  :  but  he  had  managed 
to  get  reinstated  on  promises  of  amendment,  which  were,  we 
fear,  much  more  profuse  than  sincere.  John's  standard  of 
morality  was  not  exalted,  nor  were  his  attainments  in  the 
profession  great ;  having  confined  himself  mostly  to  a  class 


JOHK  STOUT,  ESQ.,  AND  MARK  SULLIVAN.       305 

of  cases  and  of  clients  better  suited  to  give  notoriety  than 
enviable  reputation  to  the  practitioner.  He  seemed  to  have 
a  separate  instinct,  like  a  carrion  crow's,  for  the  filthy ;  and 
he  snuffed  up  a  tainted  atmosphere,  as  Swedenborg  says 
certain  spirits  do,  with  a  rare  relish.  But  with  all  John's 
industry  and  enterprise,  John  never  throve,  but  at  fifty  years 
of  age,  he  was  as  seedy  and  threadbare  in  clothes  as  in 
character.  He  had  no  settled  abode,  but  was  a  sort  of  Cal- 
muc  Tartar  of  the  Law^  and  roamed  over  the  country  gen- 
erally, stirring  up  contention  and  breeding  dirty  lawsuits, 
fishing  up  fraudulent  papers,  and  hunting  up  complaisant 
witnesses  to  very  apocryphal  facts. 

Well,  on  one  bright  May  morning,  Squire  Stout  presented 
himself  at  the  door  of  the  jail  in  Livingston,  and  asked  ad- 
mittance, professing  a  desire  to  see  Mr.  Mark  Sullivan,  an 
old  friend.  Harvey  Thompson,  the  then  sheriff,  admitted 
him  to  the  door  within,  and  which  stood  between  Mark  and 
the  passage.  John  desired  to  be  led  into  the  room  in  which 
Mark  w^as,  w^ishing,  he  said,  to  hold  a  private  interview 
with  Mark  as  one  of  Mark's  counsel ;  but  Harvey  pe- 
remptorily refused — telling  him,  however,  that  he  might  talk 
with  the  prisoner  in  his  presence.  The  door  being  thrown 
back,  left  nothing  but  the  iron  lattice-work  betvreen  the 
friends,  and  Mark,  dragging  his  chain  along,  came  to  the 
door.  At  first,  he  did  not  seem  to  recognize  John ;  but 
John,  running  his  hand  through  the  interstices,  grasped 
Mark's  with  fervor,  asking  him,  at  the  same  time,  if  it  w^ere 
possible  that  he  had  forgotten  his  old  friend,  John  Stout. 


300  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

Mark,  as  most  men  in  durance,  was  not  slow  to  recognize 
any  friendship,  real  or  imaginary,  that  might  be  made  to 
turn  out  to  advantage,  and,  of  course,  allowed  the  claim,  and 
expressed  the  pleasure  it  gave  him  to  see  John.  John  soon 
got  his  hydraulics  in  readiness, — for  sympathy  and  pathetic 
eloquence  are  wonderfully  cheap  accessories  to  rascality, — 
and  begun  applying  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes  with  great 
energy.  ''  Mark,  my  old  friend,  you  and  I  have  been 
friends  many  a  long  year,  old  fellow ;  we  have  played  many 
a  game  of  seven  up  together,  Mark,  and  shot  at  many  a 
shooting  match,  Mark,  and  drunk  many  a  gallon  of  ^  red- 
eye '  together  ; — and  to  think,  Mark,  my  old  friend  and 
companion,  that  I  loved  and  trusted  like  a  brother,  Mark, 
should  be  in  this  dreadful  fix, — far  from  wife,  children, 
and  friends,  Mark, — it  makes  a  child  of  me,  and  I  can't — 
control — my  feelings."  (Here  John  wept  with  considerable 
vivacity,  and  doubled  up  an  old  bandanna  handkerchief  and 
mopped  his  eyes  mightily.)  Mark  was  not  one  of  the  cry- 
ing sort.  He  was  a  Eoman  nosed,  eagle-eyed  ruffian  of  a 
fellow,  some  six  feet  two  inches  high,  and  with  a  look  and 
step  that  the  McGregor  himself  might  feel  entitled  him  to 
be  respected  on  the  heather. 

So  Mark  responded  to  this  lachrymal  ebullition  of  Stout's 
a  little  impatiently :  ''  Hoot,  man,  what  are  you  making  all 
diat  how-de-do  for  ?  It  aint  so  bad  as  you  let  on.  To  be  sure, 
it  aint  as  pleasant  as  sitting  on  a  log  by  a  camp  fire,  with  a  tick- 
ler of  the  reverend  stuff,  a  pack  of  the  documents  and  two  or 
tliree  good  fellows,  and  a  good  piece  of  fat  deer  meat  roast- 


JOIIX    STOUT,  ESQ.,  AND    MARK    SULLIVAN.  307 

iiig  at  the  end  of  a  ramrod ;  but,  for  all  that,  it  aint  so  bad 
as  might  be :  they  can't  do  nothing  with  me :  it  was  done 
fair, — it  was  an  old  quarrel.  We  settled  it  in  the  old  way  : 
I  had  my  rifle,  and  I  plugged  him  fust — he  might  a  knowed 
I  would.  It  was  devil  take  the  hindmost.  It  wasn't  my 
fault  he  didn't  draw  trigger  fust — they  can't  hurt  me  for  it. 
But  I  hate  to  be  stay  in'  here  so  long,  and  the  fishin'  time 
comin'  on,  too — it's  mighty  hard,  but  it  can't  be  holped,  I 
suppose."     (And  here  Mark  heaved  a  slight  sigh.) 

"  Ah,  Mark,"  said  John,  "  I  aint  so  certain  about  that ; 
that  is,  unless  you  are  particular  well  defended.  You  see, 
Mark,  it  aint  now  like  it  used  to  be  in  the  good  old  times. 
They  are  getting  new  notions  now-a-days.  Since  the  peni- 
tentiary has  been  built,  they  are  got  quare  ways  of  doing 
things, — they  are  sending  gentlemen  there  reg'lar  as  pig- 
tracks.  I  believe  they  do  it  just  because  they've  got  an  idea 
it  helps  to  pay  taxes.  When  it  used  to  be  neck  or  nothin', 
why,  one  of  the  young  hands  could  clear  a  man ;  but  now  it 
takes  the  best  sort  of  testimony,  and  the  smartest  sort  of 
lawyers  in  the  market,  to  get  a  friend  clear.  The  way  things 
are  goin'  on  now,  murdering  a  man  will  be  no  better  than 
stealin'  a  nigger,  after  awhile." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mark.,  "  things  is  going  downwards, — there 
aint  no  denyin'  of  that.  I  know'd  the  time  in  old  Washing- 
ton, when  people  let  genilemefi  settle  these  here  little  mat- 
ters their  own  way,  and  nobody  interfered,  but  minded  their 
own  business.  And  now  you  can't  put  an  inch  or  two  of 
knife  in  a  fellow,  or  lam  him  over  the  head  a  few  times  with 


308  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

a  light-wood  knot,  but  every  little  lackey  must  poke  his  nose 
into  it,  and  LaiL\  law^  law^  is  the  word, — ihe  cowardly,  nasty 
slinks  ;  and  then  them  lawyers  must  have  their  jaw  in  it, 
and  bow,  bow  wow,  it  goes  ;  and  the  juror,  they  must  have 
their  say  so  in  it ;  and  the  sherr^-r,  he  must  do  something, 
too ;  and  the  old  cuss  that  grinds  out  the  law  to  'em  in  the 
box,  he  must  have  his  hotv-cle-do  about  it ;  and  then  the  wit- 
nesses, they  must  swear  to  ther  packs  of  lies — and  the  law- 
yers git  to  bawlin'  and  bellerin',  like  Methodist  preachers  at 
a  camp  meetin' — allers  quarrellin'  and  no  fightin' — jawin' 
and  jawin'  back,  and  sich  eternal  lyin' — I  tell  you.  Stout,  I 
won't  stay  in  no  such  country.  When  I  get  out  of  here,  I 
mean  to  go  to  Texas,  whar  a  man  can  see  some  peace,  and 
not  be  interfered  with  in  his  private  consarns.  All  this 
come  about  consekens  so  many  new  settlers  comin'  in  the 
settle??^e?^^,  bringin'  their  new-fool  ways  with  'em.  The  fust 
of  it  was  two  preachers  comin'  along.  I  told  'em  'twould 
never  do — and  if  my  advice  had  been  tuk,  the  thing  could 
a  been  stopped  in  time ;  but  the  boys  said  they  wanted  to 
hear  the  news  them  fellers  fotch'd  about  the  Gospel  and 
sich — and  there  was  old  Eamsouser's  mill-pond  so  handy, 
too  ! — but  it's  too  late  now.  And  then  the  doggery-keepers 
got  to  sellin'  licker  by  the  drink,  instead  of  the  half-pint, 
and  a  dime  a  drink  at  that;  and  then  the  Devil  was  to  pay, 
and  NO  mzstake.  But  they  cant  hurt  me,  eTohn.  They'll 
have  to  let  me  out:  and  ef  it  wasn't  so  cussed  mean,  I'd 
take  the  law  on  'em,  and  sue  'em  for  damages ;  but  then  it 
would  be  throw'd  up  to  my  children,  that  Mark  Sullivan  tuk 


JOHxN    STOUT,  ESQ.,  AND    MARK    SULLIVAN.  309 

the  law  on  a  man ;  and,  besides,  Stout,  I've  got  another  way 
of  settlin'  the  thing  up, — in  the  old  way, — ef  my  life  is 
spared,  and  Providence  favors  me.  But  that  aint  nothin'  to 
the  present  purpose.     John,  where  do  you  live  now  ?" 

Jolin, — '^  I'm  living  in  Jackson,  Mississippi,  now,  Mark ; 
and  hearing  you  were  in  distress,  I  let  go  all  holds,  and 
came  to  see  you.  Says  I,  my  old  friend  Mark  Sullivan  is  in 
trouble,  and  I  must  go  and  see  him  out ;  and  says  my  wife  : 
^  John  Stout,  you  pretend  you  never  deserted  a  friend,  and 
here  you  are,  and  your  old  friend  Mark  Sullivan,  that  you 
thought  so  much  of,  laying  in  jail,  when  you,  if  any  man 
could,  can  get  him  clear.'  Now,  Mark,  I  couldn't  stand 
that.  When  my  wife  throw'd  that  up  to  me,  I  jist  had  my 
horse  got  out,  and  travelled  on,  hardly  stopping  day  Qr 
night,  till  I  got  here.  And  the  U.  S.  Court  was  in  session, 
too,  and  a  big  lawsuit  was  coming  on  for  a  million  of  dollars. 
T  and  Prentiss  and  George  Yerger  was  for  the  plaintiff,  and 
we  were  to  get  five  thousand  dollars,  certain,  and  a  hundred 
thousand  dollar's  if  we  gained  it.  I  went  to  see  George,  be- 
fore I  left,  and  George  said  I  must  stay — it  would  never  do. 
Says  he,  '  John,' — he  used  always  to  call  me  John, — '  you 
know,' — which  I  did,  Mark, — that  our  client  relies  on  you. 
and  you  must  be  here  at  the  trial.  1  can  fix  up  the  papers,  and 
Prent.  can  do  the  fancy  work  to  the  jury  ;  but  when  it  comes 
to  the  heavy  licks  of  the  law,  John,  you  are  the  man,  and 
no  mistake.'  And  just  then  Prentiss  come  in,  and,  after 
putting  his  arm  and  sorter  hugging  me  to  him, — which  was 
Prent.'s  way  with  his  intimate  friends, — says,  'John,  my  old 


310  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

friend,  you  have  to  follow  on  our  side,  and  you  must  masb 
Sam  Boyd  and  Jo  Holt  into  Scotch  snuff;  and  you'll  do  it, 
too,  John :  and  after  gaining  the  case,  we'll  have  a  frolic 
that  will  suck  the  sweet  out  of  the  time  of  day.'  And  then 
Yerger  up  and  tells  Prentiss  about  my  going  off:  and  Pren- 
tiss opened  his  eyes,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  crazy ;  and  I 
told  him  jist  this  :  says  I,  '  Prent^  you  are  a  magnanimous 
man,  that  loves  his  friend,  aint  you  ?  '  and  Prentiss  said  he 
hoped  he  was.  And  then  said  I,  '  Prentiss,  Mark  Sullivan 
is  my  friend,  and  in  jail,  away  from  his  wife  and  children, 
and  nobody  to  get  him  out  of  that  scrape ;  and  may  be,  if  I 
don't  go  and  defend  him — there  is  no  knowing  what  may 
come  of  it ;  and  how  could  I  ever  survive  to  think  a  friend 
of  mine  had  come  to  harm  for  want  of  my  going  to  him  in 
the  dark,  dismal  time  of  his  distress.'  (Here  John  took 
out  the  handkerchief  again,  and  began  weeping,  after  a  fash- 
ion Mr.  Alfred  Jingle  might  have  envied,  even  when  per- 
forming for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Samuel  Weller.)  '  No,'  said 
I,  '  Sergeant  Prentiss,  let  the  case  go  to  h — 1,  for  me  ; — John 
Stout  and  Andrew  Jackson  never  deserted  a  friend,  and 
never  will.'  Said  Prentiss,  '  John,  I  admire  your  princi 
pies;  give  us  your  hand,  old  fellow;  and  come,  let  us  take 
a  drink  ;' — for  Prent.  was  always  in  the  habit  of  treating  his 
noble  sentiments — George  wasn't.  Well,  Mark,  you  see  I 
came,  and  am  at  your  service  through  thick  and  thin." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mark,  "  I'm  much  obleeged  to  you,  John, 
but  I'm  afeered  I  can't  afford  to  have  you, — you're  too  dear 
an  article  for  my  pocket ;  besides,  I've  got  old  John  Gayle 
and  I  reckon  he'll  do." 


JOHN    STOUT,   ESQ,,  AND    MARK    SULLIVAN.  311 

'^  Why,"  said  John,  "  I  don't  dispute,  Mark,  but  that 
tlie  old  Governor  is  some  punkins, — you  might  have  done 
worse.  I'll  not  disparage  any  of  my  brethren.  I'll  say  to 
Jbiis  back  what  I've  said  to  his  face.     You  mio-lit  do  worse 

o 

than  get  old  John — but,  Mark,  two  heads  are  better  than 
one ;  and  though  I  may  say -it,  when  it  comes  to  the  genius 
licks  of  the  law  in  these  big  cases,  it  aint  every  man  in  your 
fix  can  get  such  counsel.  Now,  Mark,  money  is  money,  and 
feelins  is  feelins ;  and  I  don't  care  if  I  do  lose  the  case  at 
Jackson.  If  you  will  only  secure  two  hundred  dollars  to  pay 
expenses,  I  am  your  man,  and  you're  as  good  as  cleared  al- 
ready." 

But  Mark  couldn't  or  wouldn't  come  into  these  reason- 
able terms,  and  his  friend  Stout  left  him  in  no  very  amiable 
mood, — having  quite  recovered  from  the  fit  of  hysterics  into 
which  he  had  fallen, — and  Mark  turned  to  Thompson,  and 
making  sundry  gyrations  with  his  fingers  upon  a  base  formed 
by  his  nose,  his  right  thumb  resting  thereon,  seemed  to  inti- 
mate that  John  Stout's  proposition  and  himself  were  little 
short  of  a  humbug,  which  couldn't  win. 

Mark,  though  ably  and  eloquently  defended,  was  con- 
victed at  the  next  court,  and  was  sentenced  to  the  peniten- 
tiary for  life.  And  Stout,  speaking  of  the  result  afterwards, 
said  he  did  not  wonder  at  it,  for  the  old  rascal,  after  having 
sent  for  him  all  the  way  from  Jackson,  higgled  with  him  on 
a  fee  of  one  thousand  dollars,  when  he,  in  indignant  disgust 
at  his  meanness,  left  him  to  his  fate. 


512  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


MR.  ONSLOW. 

It  is  amusing  to  witness  tlie  excitement  of  the  lawyers 
concerned  in  the  trial  of  a  long  and  severely-contested  case, 
after  the  argument  is  concluded,  and  the  judge  is  giving  the 
jury  charges  as  to  the  law.  In  Mississippi,  the  practice  is 
for  the  counsel  to  prepare  written  charges  after  the  case  is 
argued,  to  be  offered  when  the  jury  are  about  retiring  from 
the  box ;  and  the  Court  gives  or  refuses  them  as  it  approves 
or  disapproves  of  them, — sometimes  altering  them  to  suit 
its  own  views  of  the  law. 

On  one  occasion,  a  case  was  tried  of  some  difficulty  and 
complexity,  involving  the  title  to  a  negro,  which  had  been 
run  off  from  a  distant  part  of  the  State,  and  sold  in  Nox- 
ubee county  by  a  man,  who  had,  previously  to  running  him, 
mortgaged  him  to  the  plaintiff.  The  negro  had  been  in  the 
county  for  a  good  while  before  he  was  discovered ;  and  the 
present  holder  had  been  sued — Mr.  Onslow  being  the  attorney 
for  the  mortgagee,  and  indeed  it  was  understood,  having  some 
other  rights  in  the  litigation  than  those  of  counsel.  The 
defendant    had   retained    Henry  G y  and  James  T. 


MR.  ONSLOW.  313 

H ,  Esqrs.,  ingenious  youth,  who  were  duly  and  fully 

prepared,  and  especially  willing,  to  exhaust  all  the  law  there 
was,  and  a  good  deal  there  wasn't,  to  defeat  the  plaintiff's 
recovery  in  the  premises. 

Mr.  Onslow  appeared  alone.  Indeed,  he  would  have 
scorned  assistance  in  such  a  proceeding.  He  had  come  on 
horseback  from  the  Mississippi  Swamp,  on  no  other  busi- 
ness than  to  attend  to  this  case.  His  preparation  was  ar- 
duous and  thorough — his  zeal  apostolic.  No  doubt  he  had 
made  the  pine-trees  sweat  rezinous  tears,  "voiding  their 
rheum,"  and  had  made  the  very  stumps  ache,  and  the  leaves 
quiver,  as  he  journeyed  on,  rehearsing  the  great  speech  he  in- 
tended to  make  in  the  to-be  celebrated  case  of  Hugginson  vs- 
McLeod.  He  was  a  peculiar-looking  man,  was  Mr.  Onslow. 
Kising  six  feet  in  his  stockings,  large-boned,  angular,  mus- 
cular, without  an  ounce  of  surplus  flesh,  he  was  as  active  and 
as  full  of  energy  as  a  panther.  His  head  was  long  and 
large,  the  features  irregular  and  strongly-marked,  face  florid, 
eyes  black,  restless  and  glaring,  mouth  like  a  wolf-trap,  and 
muscles  twitching  and  shaking  like  a  bowl  of  jell}^,  and 
hair  a  reddish-brown — about  as  much  of  it  as  Absalom  car- 
ried, but  of  such  independence  of  carriage  that  it  stuck  up 
all  around,  "  like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine."  He 
was  a  sort  of  walking  galvanic  battery  ;  charged  full  in  every 
fibre  with  the  electric  current.  If  a  man  had  run  his  hand 
over  his  hair  in  a  dark  room  across  the  grain,  the  sparks 
would  have  risen  as  from  the  back  of  a  black  ctt.  We  have 
not  heard  from  him  since  the  spirit aal  rappings,  table  tip. 
14 


314  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

pings,  and  movings  were  the  vogue, — but  we  will  go  our  old 
hat  against  a  julep,  that  if  the  spirits  would  not  come  at  his 
bidding,  they  have  quit  coming  from  the  vasty  deep,  or  closed 
business,  Mr.  N.  P.  Tallmadge,  or  any  other  medium  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding:    and  if  he  couldn't  set  a  table 
going  by  the  odic  force,  the  whole  thing  is  a  proved  hum- 
bug.    He  was  a   speaker  of  decided  power, — indeed  of  tre- 
mendous power.     When  he  spoke,  he  spoke  in  earnest.     He 
went  it  with  a  most  vigorous  vim.     He  had  taken  a  cataract 
and  hurricane  for  his  model.     Such  a  bellowing, — such  a  fiery 
fury,  of  fuss  and  noise,  would  sink  into  a  modest  silence  a 
whole  caravan  of  howling  dervishes.     Jemmy  T.  thought  he 
could  be  heard  when  he  let  himself  out  two  miles :  I  think 
this  extravagant, — I  should  think  not  more  than  a  mile  and 
a  half.     When  he  drew  in  a  long  breath,  and  bore  his  weight 
on  his  voice,  the  very  rafters  seemed  to  move :  but  his  voice 
was  not  all.     He  grew  as  rampant  as  a  wolf  in   high  oats, 
— ^jumping  up,  rearing  around,  and  squatting  low,  and   sid- 
ling about — forwards,  backwards — beating  benches — knock- 
ing the  entrails  out  of  law-books — running  over  chairs,  and 
clearing  out  the  area  for  ten  feet  around  him,  whirling  about 
like  a  horse  with  the  blind  staggers ;  while  he  quivered  all  over 
like  a  galvanized  frog.     He  usually  let  off  as  much  caloric 
as  would  have  fed  the  lungs  of  the  Ericsson. 

Innumerable  were  the  points  and  half-points  made  during 
the  progress  of  the  case,  and  Onslow  was  fortunate  enough 
to  win  on  m»st  of  these.  At  every  ruling  that  was  made 
in  his  favor,  he  would  suck  in  his  breath  with  a  long  inspira- 


MR.  ONSLOW.  315 

tion,  smile  a  spasmodic  smile  of  grisly  satisfaction,  and 
smack  his  lips.  He  was  in  high  feather,  and  on  excellent 
terms  with  the  judge,  whose  rulings  he  would  indorse  with 
marked  €7npressement. 

After  he  had  bellowed  his  last,  he  took  his  seat ;  and 
the  judge  asked  the  counsel  if  they  desired  any  charges. 

Onslow  rose,  and  told  the  Court  he  had  a  few.  He 
drew  out  of  his  hat  about  six  pages  of  foolscap,  on  which 
was  written  twenty-two  charges,  elaborately  drawn  out, — 
some  of  them  long  enough  to  have  been  divided  into  chap- 
ters,— and  the  whole  might  have  been  modified  and  indexed 
to  advantage.  The  defendant's  counsel,  while  Onslow  was 
reading  his  charges,  sent  up  to  the  bench  a  single  instruc- 
tion couched  in  a  few  words. 

Onslow  read  his  charge  1.  in  a  loud  and  argumentative 
voice — the  Court  gave  it :  "  Exactly,  your  honor,"  observed 
0.,  and  so  on  to  the  22d,  which  was  also  given,  Onslow  bow- 
ing and  smiling,  and  his  face  glowing  out,  from  anxiety  to 
assurance,  as  the  charge  was  read  and  given,  like  a  lightning- 
bug's  tail,  giving  light  out  of  darkness. 

After  he  got  through  reading  the  charges,  he  handed 
them  to  the  judge.  Hon.  H.  S.  B.  was  on  the  bench — one 
of  the  best  judges  in  the  State.  He  turned  to  tho  jury : 
"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  listen  to  the  instructions  the  Court 
gives  you  in  this  case." 

He  then  read  the  first  instruction  of  Onslow,  in  a  clear, 
decided  tone ;  at  the  conclusion  of  it  0.  sighed  heavily, — 
BO  with  the  next,  and  so  on;    Onslow  all  this  time  gazing 


316  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH   TIMES    OF    ALABaMA. 

with  rapt  attention  upon  the  judge,  and  his  mouth  motion- 
ing with  the  judge's — like  a  school-boy  writing  O's  in  his 
first  copy — and  at  the  end  of  every  charge  ejaculating, 
''  Exactly,  your  honor  !  " 

After  getting  through  these  charges,  the  judge  remarked : 
"  And  now,  gentlemen,  I  give  3^ou  this  charge  for  the  defend- 
ant.'' Onsiow  stopped  breathing,  as  the  judge  slowly  sylla- 
bled out,  ^'  But  notwithstanding — all — this — it  being — an 
admitted — fact — that — the  mortgage — was — not — recorded 
— in — Noxu — bee — county — you — must — fi — n — d  for  the 
d — e — fen — dant."  As  this  was  going  on,  Onslow  was  com- 
pletely psychologized  :  he  stared  until  his  eyes  looked  as  if 
they  would  pop  out — his  lower  jaw  dropped — and  putting 
his  hand  to  his  head,  involuntarily  exclaimed — "  Oh,  hell ! 
your  honor ! '' 

He  left  in  the  course  of  ten  minutes,  to  start  on  a  return 
journey  of  three  hundred  miles,  in  mid-winter,  and  such 
roads — through  the  woods  to  the  Mississippi  Swamp. — 
'-^  Phansy  hx^  jphelinksy 


JO.  HEYFEON. 

Judge  Starling,  of  Mississippi,  had  become  very  sensi- 
tive because  the  lawyers  insisted  on  arguing  points  after  he 
had  decided  them.  So  he  determined  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  But 
Jo.   Heyfron,  an  excellent  lawyer,  who  had  every  thing  of 


JO.  HEYFRON.  317 

the  Emerald  Isle  about  him,  but  its  greenness, — was  the 
wrong  one  for  the  decisive  judicial  experiment  to  be  com- 
menced on.  Jo.  knew  too  much  law,  and  the  judge  too 
little,  for  an  equality  of  advantages.  On  the  occasion  re- 
ferred to,  just  as  the  judge  had  pronounced  a  very  peremp- 
tory and  a  very  ridiculous  decision,  Jo.  got  up  in  his  depre- 
cating way,  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  was  about  to  speak, 
when  the  Judge  thundered  out,  ^'  Mr.  Heyfron  !  3^ou  have 
been  practising,  sir,  before  this  Court  long  enough  to  know 
that  when  this  Court  has  once  decided  a  question,  the  pro- 
priety of  its  decision  can  only  be  reyiewed  in  the  High 
Court  of  Errors  &  Appeals  !  Take  your  seat,  sir  !  '^ 

'^  If  your  honor  plase  !  "  broke  out  Jo.,  in  a  manner 
that  would  have  passed  for  the  most  beseeching,  if  a  sly 
twinkle  in  the  off  corner  of  his  eye  had  not  betokened  the 
contrary, — "  If  your  honor  plase  !  far  be  it  from  me  to  im- 
pugn in  the  slightest  degray,  the  wusdom  and  proprietay  of 
your  honor's  decision  !  I  marely  designed  to  rade  a  few 
lines  from  the  volume  I  hold  in  my  hand,  that  your  honor 
might  persave  how  profoundly  aignorant  Sir  Wulliam  Block- 
stone  was  upon  this  subject." 

The  judge  looked  daggers,  but  spoke  none  ;  and  Hey- 
fron sat  down,  immortal.  His  body  is  dead,  but  he  still 
lives,  for  his  brilliant  retort,  in  the  anecdotal  reminiscences 
of  the  South- Western  bar.  The  anecdote  has  already  (in  a 
different,  but  incorrect  form)  had  the  run  of  the  news- 
papers. 


318  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 


OLD  UNCLE  JOHN  OLIVE. 

Attending  the  Kemper  Court  one  day,  and  engaged  in  a 
cause  then  going  on,  and  which  the  adverse  counsel  was 
arguing  to  the  jury  (something  in  the  nature  of  a  suit  for 
trespass  for  suing  out  execution  and  levying  it  on  some  corn 
reserved  under  the  poor  debtor's  law),  I  saw  this  venerable 
old  father  in  Israel  playing  bo-peep  over  the  railing  behind 
the  bar,  and  giving  me  sundry  winks  and  beckonings  to  come 
to  him. 

Uncle  John  was  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  if,  indeed, 
he  was  not  before  there  was  any  school.  He  was  some  sev- 
enty or  seventy-five  years  old,  perhaps  a  little  older.  His 
physique  was  remarkable.  He  looked  more  like  an  ante- 
diluvian boy  than  a  man.  He  was  some  four  feet  and  a 
half  or  five  feet  high,  rather  large  for  that  height,  and  taper- 
ing off  with  a  pair  of  legs  marking  Hogarjh's  line  of  beauty, 
— an  elegant  curve,  something  on  the  style  of  apair  of  pot 
hooks.  His  beard  and  hair  were  grizzly  gray,  and  the  face 
oval,  with  a  high  front  in  the  region  of  benevolence ;  but  which, 
I  believe,  no  one  ever  knew  the  sense  of  being  placed  there: 


OLD  UNCLE  JOHN  OLIVE.  319 

for  all  of  Uncle  John's  benefactions  together,  would  not  have 
amounted  to  a  supper  of  bones  for  a  hungry  dog.  Uncle 
John's  eyes  were  black  or  black-ish,  with  sanguine  trimmings, 
as  if  lined  by  red  fereting.  He  had  a  voice  with  a  double 
wabble — and,  especially  when  he  tried  it  on  the  vowels,  he 
ran  up  some  curious  notes  on  the  gamut,  and  eked  out  the 
sound  with  a  very  useless  expenditure  of  accent.  Uncle 
John  Olive  belonged  to  the  Baptist  Church, — hard-shell 
division,  but  took  it  with  the  privilege :  he  had  a  thirst  like 
the  prairies  in  the  dog-days,  and  it  took  nearly  as  much  of 
the  liquid  to  refresh  it.  But  much  as  Uncle  John  loved  the 
ardent  restoratives,  he  loved  money  quite  as  well ;  and  there 
was  a  continual  warfare  going  on  in  Uncle  John's  breast  be- 
tween these  aspiring  rivals :  but  this  led  to  a  compromise. 
Uncle  John  treated  both  with  equal  impartiality  :  he  drank 
very  freely,  but  drank  very  cheap  liquors,  making  up  for  any 
lack  of  quality,  by  no  economy  of  quantity. 

Uncle  John's  scheme  of  life  was  simple.  It  was  but  a 
slight  improvement  on  Indian  modes.  He  lived  out  in 
the  woods,  in  a  hut  which  an  English  nobleman  would  have 
considered  poor  quarters  for  his  dogs.  The  furniture  was 
in  keeping,  and  his  table  was  in  keeping  with  the  furniture. 
His  whole  establishment  would  probably  have  brought  fif- 
teen dollars.  The  entire  civil  list  of  the  old  gentleman 
could  not  have  cost  seventy-five  dollars  to  answer  its 
demands.  He  had  no  white  person  in  his  family  except  him- 
self— and  about  fifteen  negroes,  of  all  sorts  and  sizes.  He 
worked  some  six  or  seven  hands,  but  being  of  a  slow  turn, 


320    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

and  very  old-fogyish  in  his  notions,  he  did  not  succeed  very 
well  with  them,  either  in  governing  them  or  making  much 
of  a  crop :  about  a  bale  to  the  hand  was  the  extent  to  which 
Uncle  John  ever  went,  even  in  the  best  seasons.  But  as  he 
spent  nothing  except  for  some  articles  of  the  last  necessity, 
he  managed  to  lay  up  every  year  some  few  dollars,  which  he 
kept  in  specie,  hid  in  a  hole  under  a  plank  of  the  floor, 
in  an  old  chest.  This  close  economy  and  saving  way  of 
life,  kept  up  for  about  fifty-five  years,  had  at  length  made 
old  Uncle  John  Olive  worth  some  ten  thousand  dollars. 
He  had  made  it  wholly  by  parsimony.  He  was  habitually 
and  without  exception  the  closest  man  I  ever  saw, — as  close 
as  the  bark  is  to  a  tree,  or  as  green  is  to  a  leaf. 

He  was  dressed  in  home-made  linsey,  and  as  he  went  gan- 
dering  it  along,  you  would  take  him  for  the  survivor  of  those 
Dutchmen  whom  Irving  tells  of,  rolling  the  ninepins  down 
the  cave  in  the  Kaatskill  Mountains,  when  Eip  Yan  Winkle 
went  to  see  them ;  except  that  Uncle  John  did  not  carry 
the  keg  of  spirits  on  his  shoulder, — but  generally  in  his 
belly. 

A  circle  of  a  mile  drawn  around  Uncle  John  would  have 
embraced  all  he  knew  and  more  than  he  knew  of  this  breath- 
ing world,  its  ways  and  works,  and  plan  and  order ;  except 
what  he  got  item  of  at  the  market-town  or  at  the  court- 
house. All  beyond  that  circle  was  mystery.  Uncle  John 
was  a  silent  man, — he  used  his  tongue  for  little  except  to 
taste  his  liquor. — and  his  eyes  and  ears  were  open  always, 
though  I  suspect  there  must  have  been  some  stoppage  in  the 


OLD  UNCLE  JOHN  OLIVE.  32 

way  to  the  brain :  for  the  more  Uncle  John  heard  and  ob- 
served, the  more  he  seemed  not  to  know  about  matters  seen 
and  heard.  But  a  more  faithful  attention  I  never  heard  of. 
Uncle  John  was  in  the  habit  of  attending  court,  and  gave 
his  special  attention  to  the  matters  there  carried  on:  the 
way  he  would  listen  to  an  argument  on  a  demurrer  or  an 
abstract  point  of  law,  might  be  a  lesson  and  example  to  the 
most  patient  Dutch  commentator.  He  would  stare  with  a 
gaze  of  rapt  attention  upon  the  Court  and  Counsel,  occa- 
sionally shifting  one  leg,  and  uttering  a  slight  sigh  as  some 
one  of  them  closed  the  argument ;  and  stretching  his  head 
forward,  and  putting  his  hand  behind  his  ear  to  catch  the 
sound  as  the  Court  suggested  something,  though  he  never 
understood  a  single  word  of  what  was  going  on.  Towards 
the  end  of  a  long  discussion.  Uncle  John  would  begin  to 
flag  a  little,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  as  if  the 
exercise  of  listening  were  very  fatiguing — as,  indeed,  in  not 
a  few  instances,  it  might  well  have  been. 

On  the  occasion  referred  to  in  the  opening.  Uncle  John 
called  me,  and  after  the  salutations,  told  me  he  wanted  to  see 
me  right  then  on  business  of  importance.  I  should  have 
said  before  that  I  had  had  some  business  of  Uncle  John's  in 
hand,  which  I  discharged  entirely  to  his  satisfaction ;  not 
charging  the  venerable  old  gentleman  any  thing,  but  getting 
my  fee  out  of  another  person  through  whose  agency  the  old 
man  had  got  into  the  difficulty.  This  being  Uncle  John's 
first  and  only  lawsuit,  though  the  matter  was  very  sim- 
ple, gave  him  a  high  opinion  of  my  professional  abilities. 
14* 


322    SKETCHES  OF  THE  FLUSH  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA. 

Indeed,  next  to  bis  man  Remus  Simpson,  the  "  foreman  of 
the  crap,"  whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting  on  ^'  diffi- 
cult pints,"  I  stood  higher  with  Uncle  John  than  any  one 
else  as  ''  a  vaal  judgmatical  man."  I  hope  I  state  the  fact 
with  a  feeling  of  becoming  modesty.  In  the  way  of  law. 
Uncle  John  evidently  thought  the  law  would  be  behaving  it- 
self very  badly,  if  it  did  not  go  the  way  I  wished  it ;  and 
looked  to  my  opinion  not  so  much  as  to  what  the  law  was,  as 
what  it  was  to  be  after  I  spoke  the  word. 

I  told  Uncle  John  Olive  that  I  was  a  good  deal  pressed 
for  time  just  at  that  moment,  as  a  case  was  going  on  in  which 
I  was  concerned  ;  but  as  it  was  he,  Uncle  John,  I  would 
spare  him  a  few  moments.  And  so  I  left  Duncan  to  ha- 
rangue the  jury  until  I  could  confer  with  the  old  man,  and  took 
him  into  the  vacant  jury-room  on  the  same  floor,  and  shut 
the  door.  "  "Well,"  said  I,  "  Uncle  John,  I  hope  nothing  se- 
rious has  happened — [which  was  a  lie,  for  I  was,  in  the  then 
(and  I  might  lay  the  fact  with  a  continuaiido)  depressed 
state  of  my  fiscality, — I  confess  I  was  a  little  anxious  for 
something  to  happen  in  order  to  relieve  the  same,  and  was 
just  doing  a  little  mental  arithmetic ;  figuring  up  what  I 
should  charge  the  old  man,  whether  a  fifty  or  a  hundred ; 
but  concluding  to  take  the  fifty,  rather  than  hazard  the 
chance  of  bluffing  the  old  man  off.] 

"  But,"  said  the  old  man,  ^^  they  is,  /  tell  you. 
^-a-a-A-w-ling — Bawling,  Yirgil  C-a-A-A-n-non  won't  do  to 
tie  to  no  way  you  can  fix  it — Bawling." 

"Why,"  said  I,  ''  Uncle  John,  I  must  confess  the  con- 
duct of  that  young  man  has  not  altogethei' — (here  the  sheriff 


OLD    UNCLE    JOHN    OLIVE.  323 

called  me  at  the  door)  but  Uncle  John,  quick  I'm  called — " 
"  Well,  Bawling,  I  reckon  it  don't  make  much  odds  about 
your  going  back — you've  told  that  juror  what  they  must  do 
wonce,  and  I  reckon  they  wont  ha'  a  furgot  it  by  this  time, 
Bawling." 

'^  Yes, — but  they  are  obstinate  sometimes^  Uncle  John, 
and  I  must  go — quick  now — Uncle  John — You  say  Cannon 
did — what  to  you." 

"  Why,  Bawling — Virgil  Cannon — he  had  been  a  whip- 
pin'  my  nigger,  Remus — Eemus  told  me  so  hisself,  and  I  kin 
prove  it  by  Bemus  and  sore-legged  Jim — ^jest  'cause  Remus 
sassed  him — when  he  sassed  Remus  fust — when  he,  Virgil 
Cannon,  should  have  said,  as  Remus  heerd,  that  Virgil  Can- 
non should  ov  said  Remus  stole  his  corn — I  went  to  see 
Virgil  Cannon,  and  ^  Virgil  Cannon,'  says  I, — ^jest  in  them 
words  I  said  it.  Bawling  ;  '  you  nasty,  stinking  villain,  what 
did  you  whip  my  nigger,  Remus,  fur  ? '  And  what  you 
think  Bawling,  Virgil  Cannon  should  have  said  ?  "  (here  was  a 
long  emphatic  stony  stare.)  "  Why  I  don't  know.  Uncle 
John,"  replied  I.  ^'  Why,  Bawling,  Virgil  Cannon  should  ov 
said  to  me,  says  he,  '  Go  to  h — 11,  you  d — d  old  bow-legged 
puppy,  and  kiss  my  foot ' — Now,  Bawling,  what  would  you 
advise  me  to  do.  Bawling  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  old  man,  /would  advise  you  not  to  do 
it.  Good-bye,  I  must  go."  And  I  left  the  old  fellow  stiff 
as  a  pillar  staring  at  the  place  which  I  left. 

I  don't  know  how  long  he  remained  there — for  I  pitched 
into  the  case,  and  the  way  I  made  the  fire  fly  from  parties, 
witnesses  and  counsel,  in  the  corn  case,  was  curious. 


824  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    A.LABAMA. 


EXAMINING  A   CANDIDATE   FOR 
LICENSE. 

Some  time  in  the  year  of  Grace,  1837  or  8,  during  the  session 
of  the  Circuit  Court  of  N  *****  *  Mississippi,  Mr. 
Thomas  Jefferson  Knowly  made  known  to  his  honor,  his 
(K.'s)  respectful  desire  to  be  turned  into  a  lawyer.  Such  re- 
quests, at  that  time,  were  granted  pretty  much  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Practising  law,  like  shinplaster  banking  or  a  fight, 
was  pretty  much  a  free  thing ;  but  the  statute  required  a  cer- 
tain formula  to  be  gone  through,  which  was  an  examination 
of  the  candidate  by  the  Court,  or  under  its  direction.  The 
Judge  appointed  Henry  G-  *  *  *  and  myself  to  put  him 
through,  a  task  we  undertook  with  much  pleasure.  Jeffer- 
son, or  Jeff,  as  he  was  called  for  short,  had  been  lounging 
about  the  court-house  for  some  time,  refreshing  his  mind  with 
such  information  as  he  could  thus  pick  up  on  the  trial  of  cases, 
and  from  the  discussions  of  the  bar  in  reference  to  the  laws 
of  his  country.  Having  failed  in  the  drygoods  line  at  the 
cross  roads,  he  was  left  at  leisure  to  pursue  some  other  call- 


EXAMINING    A    CANDIDATE    FOR    LICENSE.  325 

ing  without  being  disturbed  by  any  attention  to  his  bill-book. 
He  had  taken  up  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  law  from  the 
glimpses  he  had  got  of  its  physiognomy  ;  and,  having  borrow- 
ed an  old  copy  of  Blackstone,  went  to  work  to  master  its 
contents  as  well  as  he  could.  He  had  reached  about  thirty- 
five  years  when  this  hallucination  struck  him.  He  was  a 
stout,  heavy  fellow — with  a  head  that  Spurzheim  might  have 
envied  :  though  the  contents  thereof  did  not  give  any  new 
proof  of  Spurzheim's  theory.  He  was  not  encumbered  with 
any  learning.  He  had  all  the  apartments  of  his  memory  un- 
filled and  waiting  to  be  stored  with  law.  An  owl-like  grav- 
ity sat  on  him  with  a  solemnity  like  the  picture  of  sorrowing 
affection  on  a  tombstone.  He  was  just  such  a  man  as  passes 
for  a  wonderful  judge  of  law  among  the  rustics — who  usually 
mistake  the  silent  blank  of  stupidity  for  the  gravity  of  wis- 
dom. 

We  took  Jefi'erson  with  us,  in  the  recess  of  court,  over  to 
a  place  of  departed  spirits,— don't  start,  reader  !  we  mean, 
an  evacuated  doggery,  grocery  or  juicery,  as,  in  the  elegant 
nomenclature  of  the  natives,  it  was  variously  called  ;  the  for- 
mer occupant  having  suddenly  decamped  just  before  court, 
by  reason  of  some  apprehensions  of  being  held  responsible 
for  practising  his  profession  without  license. 

Having  taken  our  seats,  the  examiners  on  the  counter, 
and  the  examinee  on  an  empty  whiskey  barrel,  the  examina- 
tion began.  My  learned  associate  having  been  better 
grounded  in  the  elemental  learning  of  the  books,  into  which 
his  research  was,  as  old  H.  used  to  say,  '^  specially  sarching," 


326  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

and  being,  besides,  the  State's  attorney,  was  entitled  to  pre- 
cedence in  the  examination ;  a  claim  I  was  very  willing  to 
allow.     After  some  general  questions,  G.  asked  \ 

"  Mr.  Knowly,  what  is  a  chose  i?i  action  ?  " 

Knowhj. — A  chosen  action  ?  eh  ? — yes — exactly — just  so 
— a  chosen  action  ?  Why,  a  chosen  action  is — whare  a  man's 
got  a  right  to  fetch  two  or  three  actions,  and  he  chuses  one 
of  'em  which  he  wdll  fetch — the  one  that's  chuse  is  the — chosen 
action  :  that's  easy,  squire. 

G. — Well,  what  is  a  chose  171  possession  1  * 

K. — A  chosen  possession  ?  A  chosen  possession — ( G. — 
Don't  repeat  the  question — answer  it,  if  you  please.  K, — 
Well— I  won't—) 

K. — A  chosen  possession? — Yes — exactly — jess  so— 
ahem — (here  K.  looked  about  for  a  stick,  picked  one  up  and 
began  whittling  with  a  knife — then  muttering  absently) — ^'  A 
chosen  possession  ?  Why,  squire,  if  a  man  has  two  posses- 
sions to  be  chose,  which  he  is  to  chuse  as  a  guard6e?^  which 
the  estate  have  not  been  divided,  and  they  come  to  a  divide 
of  it  in  lots  which  the  commissioners  has  set  aside  and  prized, 
and  he  chooses  one  of  them  possessions,  ivhich  one  he  chooses, 
that  is  the  chosen  possession.     That  aint  hard  nuther. 

G. — Mr.  K.  how  many  fees  are  there  ? 

K. — How  many  fees  ? — why  squire,  several :  doctor's  fees, 
lawyer's  fees,  sheriff's  fees,  jailer's  fees,  clerk's  fees,  both 
courts,  and  most  every  body  else's. 

G. — What  is  the  difference  between  a  fee  simple  and 
contingent  fee  ? 


EXAMINING    A    CANDIDATE    FOR    LICENSE.  327 

K. — The  difference  between  a  fee — (here  G-.  told  him 
not  to  repeat  the  question,  K.  promised  he  wouldn't,  and  re- 
sumed). 

The  difference  between — yes — exactly — ^jess  so.  Why, 
squire — a  simple  fee  is  where  a  client  gives  his  lawyer  so 
much  any  how,  let  it  go  how  it  will ;  and  a  contingent  fee  is 
where  he  takes  it  on  the  sheeres,  and  no  cure  no  pay. 

G. — What  are  the  marital  rights  of  a  husband  at  common 
law  ? 

K. —  The  martal  rites  ? — (smiling) — concerning  of  what, 
squire  ? 

G. — Her  property  ? 

K. — Oh — that — why — yes — ^jess  so — why,  squire,  he  gets 
her  truck, — i.  e.,  if  he  can  without  committing  a  ive^pass — • 
what's  hers  is  his,  and  what's  his  is  his  own.  Squire,  I  know'd 
that  before  ever  I  opened  a  law-book. 

G. — Is  the  wife  entitled  to  dower  in  the  husband's  lands 
if  she  survives  him  ? 

K. — 0 — yes,  squire — in  course — I've  seen  that  tried  in 
Alabama;  that  is,  squire,  you  understand  if  the  estate  is  sol- 
vent to  pay  the  debts. 

G. —  Suppose  the  husband's  estate  is  insolvent — what 
then? 

K — Why,  then,  in  course  not.  . 

G.— Why  not  ? 

K. — Why  not  ? — why,  squire,  it  stands  to  reason  :  for 
then,  you  see,  the  husband  might  gather  a  whole  heap  of  land, 
and  then  jest  fraudently  die  to  give  his  wife  dower  rights  to 


328  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA, 

his  land.     I  jest  know  plenty  of  men  about  here  mean  enough 
to  do  it,  and  jump  at  the  chance. 

G. — Has  a  man  a  natural  right  to  dispose  of  his  proper- 
ty by  will  ? 

K. — Why,  now,  squire,  concerning  of  that — ^my  mind  aint 
so  clare  as  on  tother  pints — it  strikes  me  sort  a  vague — 
something  about  a  cow  laying  or  that  should  have  laid  down 
in  a  place  which  she  had  a  right,  and  another  cow-beast,  nor 
airy  another  havin'  no  rights  to  disturb  her : — aint  that  it^ 
squire  ? 

G. — Suppose,  Mr.  K.,  a  tenant  for  life,  should  hold  over 
after  the  termination  of  his  estate,  what  kind  of  action  would 
you  bring  against  him  ? 

K. — Tenant  for  life — hold — termination  of  the  state  ? — 
ugh — um — ^jess  so — Squire,  aint  that  mortmain — the  statue 
of  mortmain — in  Kichard  the  8th's  time  ? — Blackstone  says 
something  about  that. 

G. — Mr.  K.,  if  a  man  wants  to  keep  his  property  in  his 
family,  how  far  can  he  make  it  descend  to  his  children  and 
grand-children,  &c. 

K. — Why  as  to  that — something,  squire,  about  all  the  can- 
dles burning — but,  squire,  I  never  could  understand  what 
burning  candles  had  to  do  with  it. 

G. — What  is  an  estMe  tail  female,  contingent  on  the 
happening  of  a  past  event,  limited  by  contingent  devise  to 
the  children  of  grantees  after  possibility  of  issue  extinct, 
considered  with  reference  to  the  statute  De  Donis  ? 

K — Squire,  the  Devil  himself  couldn't  answer  that,  and 


EXAMINING    A    CANDIDATE    FOR    LICENSE.  329 

I  guess  he's  as  smart  as  airy  other  lawyer — but  I  reckon  it 
is — 

G. — Wellj  Mr.  K.,  what  is  the  distinction  between  Law 
and  Equity  ? 

K. — Why,  squire,  Law  is  as  it  happens — 'cordin'  to 
proof  and  the  way  the  juror  goes  ;  Eekity  is  jestis — and  a 
man  may  git  a  devilish  sight  of  law,  and  git  devilish  little 
jestis. 

G. — Does  Equity  ever  interfere  with  Law  ? 

K. — Not  that  ever  /seed,  squire. 

G. — Whose  son  is  a  bastard  considered  in  law  ? 

K. — Why,  squire,  that's  further  than  I've  got — I've 
ginerally  seed  that  it  was  laid  to  the  young  man  in  the  set- 
i[e?7ient  best  able  to  pay  over  its  main^amance ;  and,  I  sup- 
pose, it  would  be  his  so7i-in-laiv. 

G.— What  is  a  libel  ? 

K. — Why,  squire,  if  a  man  gits  another  in  a  room,  and 
locks  the  door  on  him,  and  makes  him  sign  a  paper  certify- 
ing he's  told  a  lie  on  him,  the  paper  is  a  lie-bill. 

G. — What  is  the  difference  between  Trespass  and  Case  ? 

K. — Why,  squire.  Trespass  ar  when  a  man  tresspasses 
on  another.  Now,  squire,  your  putting  so  many  hard  ques- 
tions to  me^  that  is  a  trespass. 

G. — Yes ;  and  if  the  fellow  can't  answer  a  single  one,  1 
should  say  he  was  a  Case. 

Here  the  examination  closed.  Jefferson  walked  slowly 
out  of  the  grocery,  and,  after  getting  about  thirty  yards  off 
on  the  green,  beckoned  me  to  him. 


330  SKETCHES    OF    THE    FLUSH    TIMES    OF    ALABAMA. 

As  I  came  towards  him,  he  drew  himself  up  with  some 
dignity,  took  aim  at  a  chip,  about  fifteen  feet  off,  and  squirted 
a  stream  of  tobacco  juice  at  it  with  remarkable  precision. 

Said    he,   slowly  and  with   marked    gravity,   ''  B ,  you 

needn't  make  any  report  of  this  thing  to  the  Judge.     I  be- 
lieve I  won't  go  in.     I  don't  know  as  it's  any  harder  than  I 

took  it  at  the  fust — but,  then,  B ,  ther's,  so,  d — d,  much 

more,  of,  it." 


THE  END. 


New  Copyright  Works,  Adapted  for  Popular  Eeading. 

JUST  PUBLISHED. 

BY  D.  APPLETON  &  CO. 

I. 

rERSO:N"AL    NAEEATIYE     OF    EXPLORA- 

TIOXS  AND  INCIDENTS  IN  TEXAS,  NEW  MEXICO,  CALIFOR- 
NIA.  SONORA.  AND  CHIHUAHUA,  CONNECTED  AVITH  THE 
MEXICAN  BOUNDARY  COMMISSION,  DURING  THE  YExUiS  1850 
'51,  "52,  and  o3. 

BY  JOnX  RUSSELL  BARTLETT, 

United  States  Coynmissioner  during  that  period. 
In  2  vols.  8vo,  of  nearly  600  pages  each,   printed  with  large 
type  and  on  extra  fine  paper,  to  be  illustrated  with  nearly  100 
wood-cuts,    sixteen    tinted    lithographs    and    a    beautiful    map, 
engraved  on  steel,  of  the  extensive  regions  traversed.    Price,  $5. 

AFEICA  AXD  THE  AMERI0A2s^  FLAG. 

BY  ANDREW   H.    FOOTE, 

Lieutenant  Commanding  the  U.  S.  Brig  Porpoise,  on  the  Coast  of 

Africa,  185 1-53. 

With  tinted  lithographic  illustrations.     One  volume  12mo. 

HI. 

CAPT.  CANOT;  or,  TWENTY  YEAES  OF  A 

SLAYER'S  LIFE. 

EDITED  BY  BRANTZ  MAYER. 

With  numerous  illustrations.     One  vol.  12mo,  cloth. 

PvITSSIA  AS  IT  IS. 

BY    THE    COUNT    DE    GUROWSKI. 

One  vol.  12mo,  cloth. 

V. 

TEMPEST    AXD    SUXSHIXE;    or,    LIFE   EN" 

KENTUCKY. 

BY  MRS.  MARY  J.  HOLMES. 

One  vol.  12mo,  paper  cover  or  cloth. 

VI. 

FAEMmGDALE. 

A  TALE  BY  CAROLINE  THOMAS. 

One  vol.  12mo,  paper  cover  or  cloth. 
*^*    Excels  in  interest,  and  is  quite  equal  in  its  delineation  of  character  to, 
The  Wide,  Wide  World.'' 

VIT. 

THE  HIVE  OF  THE  BEE  H:U2yTER. 

BY  T;   B.   THORPE. 

With  several  illustrations.     One  vol.  J2mo,  cloth. 


NEW    LIGHT    READING    BOOKS, 

PUBLISHED  BY  D.  APPLETON  &  CO. 


BUSY  MOMENTS    OF  AN  IDLE    WOMAN 

1  vol.   12mo.,  clotli,  '75  cents;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 

RcBEKT — "  Here  she  comes."    [Enter  Violante.] 

Vtolante— "  I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  pass  mc  lightly  by:  I  am  too  slight  a  tLiiig  U 
iwcL  on." — Choice  oj  a  Wife. 

Contents.— Edith— An  Every  Day  Life— The  Widow — Old  Maidism  m.  Marriage. 

••Ai.  Episode  in  the  Life  of  a  TVoman  of  Fashion.  The  book  is  a  series  of  sketches,  by  a 
lady  who  is  evidently  familiar  with  the  usages  of  fashionable  life,  and  who  can  lay  claim  to 
the  possession  of  very  considerable  literary  ability.  The  descriptions  are  lively  and  truth- 
ful, with  a  dash  of  espieglerie  and  sly  sarcasm,  that  clearly  betoken  a  more  than  ordinary 
traonnt  of  cleverness  and  observation  on  the  part  of  the  writer.  The  dialogue  is  a  faithful 
reproduction  of  the  light,  gossipy  conversation  of  people  of  ton,  £uti  is  natural  and  fi-ee."— 
Evening  Express,  Nov.  12. 

CnOICE  NEW  SWEDISH  NOVEL. 

"  JOHN;  " 

OR,  IS  A  cousr2r  ly  the  eakd,  worth:  two  counts  ay  the  busr? 

By  Emilie  Carlex,  author  of  "The  Ro^e  of  Tistleton,"    "Woman's  Life," 

"Tlie  Birthright,"  <tc.,  ttc.  ;   translated  from    the  original  Swedish. 

Onevoliiine,  8vo.,  paper  cover,  25  cents. 

An   exceedingly  interesting  stor)",  delineating  the  triumph   of  a  true  heart  over  the 

Alhirements  of  rank,  and  the  aspiration  of  an  ambitious  spirit.     The  previous  works  of  this 

eminent  Swedish  novelist,  have  been  received  with  great  favor. 

A  VERY  CAPITAL  BOOK. 

AN  ATTIC  PHILOSOPHER  IN  PARIS ; 

OR,  A  PEEP  AT  TEE  WORLD  FROJf  A  GARRET. 

Being  the  Journal  of  a  Happy  Man.     From  the  French  of  Emilie  Souvestrb. 
One  volume,  8vo.,  paper  covers,  price  25  cents. 
This  capital  work,  presenting  a  view  of  Paris  Life  fi-om  a  garret,  has  been  received  with 
high  favor  in  that  brilliant  capital.    Its  spirit  and  naivete  are  of  the  true  attic  stamp. 

LINNY   LOCKWOOD, 

By  Mrs.  Crowe,  author  of  "  Susan  Hopley/'  &e.,  <fcc.      One  volume,  8vo. 
pape^*  "-overs,  50  cents. 
"  A  ver^        ^htful  tale.    The  charm  of  the  story  is  in  its  naturalness.    It  is  perfectly 
quiet,  domei^vx*;^  .•■  id  truthful.'" 

THEFLV^H  TIMES  OF  ALABAMA  &  MISSISSIPPI 

A  Series  of  Sketches.  By  Josepu  G.  Baldwin.  1  vol.  12mo.,  illustrated, 
cloth,  $1,25. 

Contents  :— Ovid  Bolus,  Esq. — My  First  Appearance  at  the  Bar — The  Bench  and  the 
Bar— How  the  Times  served  the  Virginians— Assault  and  Battery— Simon  Suggs,  Jr., 
Esq. — Squire  A.  and  the  Fritters- Jonathan  and  the  Constable — Sharp  Financiering — Cave 
Burton,  Esq..  of  Kentucky- Justification  after  Verdict— An  Affair  of  Honor— Hon.  S.  S. 
I'rontiis- The  Bar  of  the  Southwest— Hon.  Francis  Strother — Mr.  Tee  and  Mr.  Gee— Scan. 
^lycr._An  Equitable  Set-olf— A  Cool  Rejoinder- A  Hung  Court— Samuel  Hill,  Esq.— J.>hn 
St<.ut,  Esq.,  and  Mark  Sullivan— Mr.  Onslow— Jo  Heyfrom— Old  Uncle  John  Olive— Exam- 
ining a  Candidate  for  License. 

"  A  decidedly  happy  production  for  all  who  love  fun  and  novelty.  The  author  of  a 
work  like  this  need  not'stop  to  make  apologies.  There  is  a  spice  of  real  wit  throughout  the 
book  that  renders  it  greatly  attractive,  wiiile  the  subjects  are  of  interest  to  every  body,  not 
even  excepting'  the  vv^orthy  members  of  the  legal  profession.  To  all  wo  say,  get  and  read 
this  book." — Daily  Penrtjijliunian,  Phica. 


THE    SPECTATOR    ENTIRE. 

THE  MOST  BEAUTIFUI.  EDITION   EVER  PUBEISHJED. 

D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY 

HAVE  JUST  PUBLLSHED 

THE     ''SPECTATOR:" 

WITH  PEEFACES,  HISTOKICAL  AND  EIOGEAPHICAL, 

By  Alexander  Chalmers,  A.  M. 

A  Hew  and  Carefully  Eemsed  Edition^ 

tx)mplete  in  six  Yolumes,  Svo.,  pica  tj^pe.     Price  in  cloth,  $9 ;  half  calf 
extra  or  antique,  $15  ;  calf  extra  or  antique,  $20. 


"It  is  praise  enough  to  say  of  a  writer,  that,  in  a  high  department  of  literature,  in 
•vrhich  many  eminentwriters  have  distinguished  themselves,  he  has  had  no  equal ;  and 
this  may,  with  strict  justice,  he  said  of  Addison.  .  .  .  lie  is  entitled  to  be  considered 
not  only  as  the  greatest  of  tlie  English  essayists,  but  as  the  forerunner  of  the  great  Eng- 
lish novelists.  His  best  essays  approach  near  to  absolute  perfection ;  nor  is  their  ex- 
cellence more  wonderful  than  their  variety.  His  invention  never  seems  to  flag;  nor  la 
he  ever  under  the  necessity  of  repeating  himself,  or  of  wearing  out  a  subject." — Ma- 
caulay. 

^  He  was  not  only  the  ornament  of  his  age  and  country,  but  he  reflects  dignity  on 
the  nature  of  man.  He  has  divested  vice  of  its  meretricious  ornaments,  and  painted 
religion  and  virtue  in  the  modest  and  graceful  attire  which  charm  and  elevate  the 
heart." — Dr.  Anderson. 

"In  Addison  the  reader  will  find  a  rich  and  chaste  vein  of  humor  and  satire;  lessons 
of  morality  and  religion,  divested  of  all  austerity  and  gloom  ;  criticism  at  once  pleasing 
and  profound;  and  pictures  of  n.tional  character  and  manners  that  must  ever  charm, 
frdni  their  vivacity  and  truth.'' — Dr.  Ilurd. 

"  Of  Addison's  numerous  and  well-known  writings,  it  may  be  aflirmed.  that  they 
rest  on  the  solid  basis  of  real  excellence,  in  moral  tendency  as  well  as  literary  merit. 
Vice  and  folly  are  satirized,  virtue  and  decorum  are  rendered  attractive ;  and  while 
polished  diction  and  Attic  wit  abound,  the  purest  ethics  are  inculcated.'' — Maunder, 

"  His  glory  is  that  of  one  of  our  greatest  writei-s  in  prose.  Here,  with  his  delicate 
sense  of  propriety,  his  lively  fancy,  and,  above  all.  his  most  original  and  exquisite 
humor,  he  was  in  his  proper  walk.  He  is  the  founder  of  a  new  school  of  popular  writ- 
inci,  in  which,  like  most  other  founders  of  schools,  he  is  still  unsurpassed  by  any  who 
haVe  attempted  to  imitate  him.  His  Spectator  gave  us  the  first  examples  of  a  style 
possessing  all  the  best  qualities  of  a  vehicle  of  general  amusement  and  instruction  ;  easy 
and  familiar  without  coarseness,  animated  without  extravagance,  polished  without  un- 
natural labor,  and,  from  its  flexibility,  adapted  to  all  the  variety  of  the  gay  and  thfe 
serious."' — Penny  Cyclopedia. 

"To  correct  the  vices,  ridicule  the  follies,  and  dissipate  the  ignorance,  which  too 
generally  prevailed  at  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century,  were  the  great 
and  noble  objects  the  Spectator  ever  holds  in  view;  and  by  enlivening  morality  with 
wit,  and  tempering  wit  with  morality,  not  only  were  those  objects  attained  in  an  emi- 
nent degree,  but  the  authors  conferred  a  lasting  benefit  on  their  country,  by  establishing 
and  rendering  popular  a  species  of  writing  which  has  materially  tended  to  cultivate  tlie 
understanding,  refine  the  taste,  and  augment  and  purify  the  moral  feeling  of  successive 
jfonerations.'' —  Chalmers. 

"  He  not  only  brought  a  good  philological  taste  into  fashion,  but  gave  a  pleasing  ele- 
rarion  and  popular  turn  to'religious  studies,  aud  placed  Milton  upon  a  pedestal  from 
which  he  can  never  be  pulled  down." — Aiken. 

"It  stands  at  the  head  of  all  works  of  the  same  kind  that  have  since  been  produced, 
and  as  a  miscellany  of  polite  literature,  is  not  surpassed  by  any  book  whatever."— 
Chamljera. 

"  I  consider  the  i^pectator  invaluable,  as  containing  on  the  subject  of  religion  all 
that  the  world  would  then  bear.  Had  xiddison  or  his  friends  attempted  more,  it  would 
Dot  have  been  endured.  The  work  was  a  stepping-stone  to  truth  of  the  highe.st  orde-i; 
•ad,  as  such,  our  obligations  to  It  are  gvea.V'— John  Wesley. 


APPLETON'S  EDITION  OF  THE  BRITISH  POETS. 


PROSPECTUS 


New  and  Splendid  Library  Edition 


rOPULAK  POETS  MD  POETRY  OF  BRITAIN 

EDITED,  AVITII  BIOGEAPHICAL  AND  CRITICAL  NOTICES, 
.   EV  THE  KEY.  GIORGE  GILPILEAX, 

AUTHOR   OF   "gallery   OF   LITERARY   PORTRAITS,"    "BARDS   OF  THE   BIBLE,"  ETC. 

In  demy-octavo  size,  printed  from  a  new  pica  type,  on  superfine  paper,  and  neatly  bonndL 
Price,  only  $1  a  volume  in  cloth,  or  $2  50  in  calf  extra. 


"  Stran<re]y  enough,  we  hare  never  had  as  yet  anything  at  all  approaching  a  satis- 
factory edition  of  the  English  poets.  We  have  had  Johnson's,  and  Bell's,  and  Cooke'*, 
and  Sharpe's  small  sized  editions — we  have  had  the  one  hmidred  volume  edition  from 
the  Chiswick  press — we  have  had  the  double-columned  editions  of  Chahners  and  An- 
derson— and  we  have  the,  as  yet,  imperfect  Aldine  edition  ;  but  no  series  has  hitherto 
given  evidence  that  a  man  of  cultivated  ta-steand  research  directed  *he  whole.'" — Athen. 

The  splendid  series  of  books  now  ottered  to  the  public  at  such  an  unusually  low 
rate  of  charge,  will  be  got  up  with  all  the  care  and  elegance  which  the  present  advanced 
Btate  of  the  "publishing  art  can  command. 

The  well-known  literary  character  and  ability  of  the  editor  is  suflRcient  guaranty  for 
the  accuracy  and  general  elucidation  of  the  text,  while  the  paper,  printing,  and  binding 
of  the  volumes  will  be  of  the  highest  class,  forming,  in  these  respects,  a  striking  contrast 
to  all  existing  cheap  editions,  in  which  so  few  efforts  have  been  made  to  combine 
Sui)eriority  iu'production  with  low  prices. 

Under  the  impression  that  a  chronological  issue  of  the  Poets  would  not  be  so  ac- 
ceptable as  one  more  diversified,  it  has  been  deemed  advisable  to  intermix  the  earlier 
and  the  later  Poets.  Care,  however,  will  be  taken  that  either  the  author  or  the  volumes 
are  in  themselves  complete,  as  published  ;  so  that  no  purcliaser  discontinuing  the  series 
at  r.ny  time,  will  be  possessed  of  imperfect  books. 

The  absence  in  the  book  market  of  any  handsome  uniform  series  of  the  Popular  Brit- 
ish Poets,  at  a  moderate  price,  has  induced  th^  publishers  to  project  the  present  edition, 
under  the  impression  that,  produced  in  superior  style,  deserving  a  place  on  the  shelves 
of  the  best  libraries,  and  otfered  at  less  than  one  half  the  usual  selling  price,  it  will  meet 
that  amount  of  patr(tnage  which  an  enterprise,  based  on  such  liberal  terms,  requires. 

The  scries  will  conclude  with  a  few  volumes  of  fugitive  pieces,  and  a  History  Oj 
British  Poetry,  m  which  selections  will  be  given  from  the  writings  of  those  authors 
whose  works  do  ijot  possess  sufticient  interest  to  warrant  their  publication  as  a  whole. 

It  is  believed  that  this  will  render  the  present  edition  of  the  British  Poets  the  mosi 
complete  which  has  ever  been  issued,  and  secure  for  it  extensive  support.  The  series  is 
intended  to  include  the  following  authors : — 


ADDISON^ 

AKENSIDE. 

ARMSTRONG. 

BARBAULD. 

BEATTIE. 

BLAIR. 

ELOOMFIELD, 

BRUCE. 

BURNS. 

BUTLER. 

BYRON. 

CAMPBELL. 

CAllEW. 

CMATTERTON'. 

CHAUCER. 

CHUHCUILL. 

CLAUE. 

COLERIDGE. 

COLLLNS. 

COWLEY. 


COWPEE, 

CRABBE. 

CRASHAW. 

CUNNINGHAJ.L 

DAVIES. 

DEN  HAM. 

DONNE. 

DRAYTON. 

BRUMMOND. 

DRYDEN. 

BUNBAE. 

DYER. 

Falconer. 

FERGUSSON. 

FLETCHER,  G. 

GAY. 

GIFFORD. 

GLOVER. 

GOLDSMITH. 

GOWEE. 


GRAHAME. 

GRAY. 

GREEN. 

HAMILTON,  W. 

HARRINGTON. 

HERBERT. 

DERRICK, 

HOGG. 

JAMES   I. 

JONES. 

JOHNSON. 

JONSON. 

LEY  DEN. 

LLOYD. 

LOGAN. 

MACPHERSON. 

MALLETT. 

MARVEL. 

MILTON. 

MOOBB. 


OPIE. 

PARNELL. 

PENROSE. 

PERCY. 

POPE. 

PRIOR. 

QUARLES. 

RAMSAY. 

ROGERS. 

ROSCOMMON. 

ROSS. 

BAOKVTLLE. 

BCOTT,  J. 

SCOTT,  SIR  -W. 

6IIAKSPEARE. 

8IIELLEY. 

BUEN8T0NE. 

SMART. 

SMOLLETT. 

SOMERVILLE. 


SPENSER. 

SUCKLING. 

SURREY. 

SWIFT. 

TANNAHILL. 

THOMSON. 

TICKELL. 

VAUGHAN,  H. 

WALLER. 

WAKTON,  J. 

WARTON,  T. 

WATTS. 

WHITE,  n.  K. 

WITHER. 

WILKIE. 

WOLCOTT. 

WOLFE. 

WYATT. 

YOUNG. 


The  foll-jwing  Authors  are  now  ready  : 
JOHN  MILTON,  2  vcle. ;   JAME9  THOMSON,  1  vol. ;  GEOP.aE  HERBEPvT,  1  vol 
JAMES  YOUKg,  1  vol. 


CHOICE    NKW    WORKS    OF    FICTION. 
PTOLISEED  BY  D.  APPLETON  &  00. 


EOMANCE 


ABELARD    AND    HELOISE. 

BY  0.  W.  WIGHT, 

Translator  of  "  Cousins  JJhtory  of  Modern  Philosophy^"'  Etc.^  Etc 

One  Vol.,  12mo.     Cloth,  75  Cents. 

"  Abelard  and  Heloise.  the  greatest  man  and  the  greatest  woman  of  the  Twelfth 
Century:  with  the  one  began  tlie  enfranchisement  of  thought,  and  with  the  other  thr 
enfranelii^ement  of  her  sex.  They  were  brought  by  fortune  into  romantic  relations 
with  each  other,  and  their  history  as  lovers,  is  of  most  extraordinary  interest.  The 
power  of  passion  and  the  disinterestedness  of  true  and  devoted  love'  in  such  heroic 
spirit,  is  portrayed  in  these  masterly  pages  with  fervid  eloquence.'' — Southern  Lit.  Gaz. 

"This  is  a  work  at  once  creditable  to  the  good  taste  of  its  publishers,  and  to  the 
research,  industr}^  and  discriminating  judgment  of  its  author.  AVho  is  not  already 
familiar  with  its  touching,  painful,  yet  fascinating  story  ?  Who  need  be  reminded  of 
the  genius,  the  learning,  and  the  fervor  of  its  hero,  or  of  the  beauty,  devotion  and  self- 
eacrificing  love  of  the  ill-staired  Ileloise  ?  Their  loves  and  their  misfortunes  hav* 
ftjur.d  a  sympathizing  ana  appreciating  memorial  in  this  volume,  to  which  we  can 
hardly  give  a  higher  tribute  of  our  approval,  than  by  saying  that  it  is  in  all  respects 
well  worthy  of  the  theme  to  which  it  is  devoted.  It  has  evidently  been  a  work  of 
much  labor,  as  well  as  serious  and  careful  study,  and  will  bo  found  to  have  more  than 
the  interest  of  the  most  fascinating  fiction,  while  it  teaches  some  of  the  sternest  lessons 
of  the  severe  realities  of  actual  life." — Evening  Post. 


THE  FAWN  OF  THE  PALE  FACES ; 

OR,  TWO  CENTTJUIES  AGO. 
•     BY  J.  P.  BRACE. 
One  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth  75  Cents.    Paper  Covers  50  Cents. 
*'  The  story  told  in  this  volume,  is  full  of  old  revolutionary  reminiscences.    It  la 
^mple,  yet  attracts  the  attention  of  the  reader  wonderfully.      The  character  of  the 
Indian  is  faithfully  drawn,  and  the  intrigues  and  vice  of  the  human  heart  well  exposed 
The  narrative  is  charming  throughout— the  ta!o  moral — the  scene  laid  at  Hartford,  is 
the  Beventcenth  century." — Courier. 


CYRILLA ;  A  Tale, 


BY  THE  AUTHOR   OF  THE    "INITIALS." 
8vo.  Paper  Covers,  50  Cents. 

"  There  is  a  naturalness  and  depth  of  feeling  about  the  works  of  this  writer  thAt 
makes  them  exceedingly  interesting,  and  no  person  who  has  read  one  of  them  wift 
need  any  urging  to  try  another.  She  is  not  one  of  those  writers  that  write  many  books, 
but  seems  to' wait  for  the  moment  of  inspiration,  and  then  sits  down,  with  pen  in  hand, 
and  writes  directly  from  the  heart" — AUniny  Transeri pt. 

"  Wlioever  has  read  that  delightful  novel,  "The  Initials,"  will  not  fail  to  iiurcbase 
this  tale,  by  the  same  pcin.  There  is  a  freshness  and  simplicity  in  the  style  of  the 
aulhor.  Human  character  and  manners  are  depicted,  by  strokes  as  profound  as  they 
are  apparently  facile.  It  is  a  work  cf  much  thought,  and  of  a  high  i\^^Q<d  of  Mterary 
merit.  It  will  take  its  place  among  y  i^  standard  works  of  the  age."— *&3wt^ie^^w,  Literary 
Meaaenger, 


POPULAR  NEW  LIGHT  READING  BOOKS. 

Just  Published 
By    D.    APPJLETON    &    COMPANY, 

JOHN; 

Or,  is  a  cousin  IX  HAND  WORTH  TWO  COUNTS  IN  A  BUSH? 
BY  EMILIE  CARLEN. 

TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    OEIGIXAL   SWEDISH. 

One   Volume,    8vo.     Paper   cover,   price   25    cents. 


"  A  remarkably  -well-written  story,  full  of  pleasant  incidents  and  love  scenes,  with  some 
light  touches  of  humor,  as  well  as  of  sentiment." — American  Courier. 

'•  Full  of  romantic  incidents  and  admirable  sketches,  it  will  no  doubt  acquire  a  rapid  pop- 
ularity."— Arthur  8  Rome  Gazette. 

"  It  will  be  sought  after  by  all  readers  of  light  literature." — Penvfiylvanian. 

"A  very  pleasant,  lively  novel — one  of  tlie  cheerful,  chatty  kind." — Evening  Post. 

"This  vohime  is  one  of  merit,  and  one  that  will  please  lady  readers." — Dailt/  Timefi. 

"  More  animated  than  Miss  Carlen's  last  novel,  while  there  is  the  same  ingenuity,  and 
sweet  pictures  of  feeling  and  character."" — Boston  Eventing  Transcript 

"  It  is  a  Swedish  story  and  told  with  a  piquancy  that  is  seldom  equalled.  Buy.  and  read  it." 
— Syracuse  Dally  Journal. 

"  While  she  is  Miss  Bremer's  equal  in  the  portrayal  of  domestic  scenes,  she  has  more  vigor 
of  conception  and  strength  of  sentiment." — Palladium, 


LINNY  LOCKWOOD. 

A  TALE. 
BY  Mrs.  CROWE. 

AUTHOR    OF    "night    SIDE    OF    NATURE,"    "  SUSAN    HOPLEY,"    ETC. 

One  Yolume,  8vo.     Paper  cover,  price  50  cents. 

"  A  perusal  of  a  few  pages  of  this  entertaining  romance  will  infallibly  enlist  the  reader  for 
ft  perusal  of  its  <'ntire  contents.'' — Notfolk  Herald. 

"  She  is  a  very  clever  writer,  and  Linny  Lockwood  will  have  its  share  of  readers."—  Western 
Liter  a  ry  Messen  ger. 

"There  is  a  freshness  and  simplicity  in  the  style  of  the  writer,  and  human  character  and 
manners  are  well  depicted." — Daily  Times. 

"  A  novel  designed  to  advocate  marrying  for  love  and  nothing  shoriar.''''— Syracuse  E'cen- 
ing  Chronicle. 

"  The  character  of  the  heroine  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  creations  of  modern  romance ; 
the  story  is  admirably  told. — Arthur's  Home  Gazette. 

"  It  is  written  with  a  masculine  power  and  energy,  and  is  full  of  stirring  and  rapidly 
changing  incidents,  and  of  refined  sentiment"— iV^or^Aer^i  Budget. 


THE  ATTIC   PHILOSOPHER  IN  PARIS; 

Or,  a  peep  at  THE  WORLD  FROM  A  GARRET, 
Being  the  Journal  of  a  Happy  Man. 
From  the  Frencli  of  EMILE  SOTJVESTRE. 
One  Yolume,  12mo.     Paper  cover,  25  cents. 

"  A  greater  amount  of  wisdom,  wit,  and  pathos,  it  would  be  almost  a  sin  to  expect  for 
twenty-five  cents,  than  is  to  be  found  in  this  truly  excellent  little  volume.  It  is  very  much  in 
the  style  of  Sterne's  Sentimental  Journey,  and  contains  passages  worthy  of  Lesage,  in  his 
palmiest  days." — U.  S.  Gazette. 

"This  view  of  the  peculiarities  of  Paris  Life  from  a  Garret,  has  the  stamp  of  true  genlna 
upon  it.  At  times  it  is  quaint,  and  makes  you  smile ;  at  times  rather  racy  and  saucy,  and 
makes  you  laugh ;  and  at  times  touching,  and  makes  you  inclined  to  weep." — Hartford  Daily 
Courant. 


SIXTH  EDITION.     (hiiVEN   THOUSAND   COPIES  SOLD 
D.    AP  P  LE  T  ON    4-     CO  MP  ANY 

HAVE  JUST  PUBLISHED 

M  It  i  c  li  - 1.  It  a  r  li  s 


HAVE  JUST  PUBLISHED 

FROM    AN     E  D  I  T  O  K  »  S     T  A  B  f.  E  . 

By    L.    Gaylorl    Clark,    Editor  of   the    "Knickerbocker   Magazine" 

^'ITH    ORIGINAL   ILLUSTEATIOXS. 

One  vol.  12mo.,  handsomely  printed  and  bound.     Price  $1  26 


OPimOlTS  OF  THE  PRESS,  Etc 

"I  hftve  often  thought  it  a  great  pity  that  the  sallies  of  humor,  the  entertaining  or 
amusing  incidents,  and  the  touches  of  tender  pathos  that  are  so  frequently  to  be  met 
with  in  the  *  Gossip  '  of  the  Knickerbocker^  should  be  comparatively  lost  among  the 
multitudinous  leaves  of  a  magazine."" — Washington  Irving. 

"This,  will  prove  one  of  the  pleasantest  books  of  the  season,  with  alternations  ol 
healthful  mirth  and  wholesome  sadness.  The  Editor's  Table  of  the  Knickerhocker  has 
things  quite  too  good  to  be  foi-gotten,  and  it  is  well  thought  of  to  gather  them  and  gar- 
ner them  ap  in  a  volume.'' — N.  Y.  Evming  Post. 

"  A  collection  of  the  very  cream  of  the  good  things  which  during  nineteen  years  the 
popular  and  experienced  Editor  of  the  Knickerbocker,  M».  L.  Gaylord  Ciark,  has  so 
bountifully  and  acceptably  sjiread  before  his  readers  "— ^VI  Y.  Albion. 

"  A  repast  of  which  thousands  have  partaken  with  zest,  and  found  intellectual  re- 
freshment, invio^orating  and  delightful,  therefrom.  Mr.  Clark's  humor  is  quiet,  soothi-'g, 
irresistible:  it  (litfuses  itself  through  your  whole  system,  and,  vs^hen  you  join  him  in  his 
benignant  smile,  a  glow  passes  all  ovor  you  So  with  his  pathos,  it  is  not  mawkish,  nor 
extiggerated,  but  'the  real  tear:'  and  leaves  the  reader — if  our  temperance  friends  will 
not  pervert  our  meaning — with  a  '  drop  in  his  eye'  also." — Boston  Post. 

"  A  very  epicurean  feast  of  the  richest  and  daintiest,  culled  with  the  most  sedulous 
care  and  nicest  discrimination.  It  is  a  collection  of  luxuries  such  as  was  never  before 
made  on  American  soil ;  and  thousands,  when  they  hear  of  it,  will  be  ready  to  greet 
their  favorite  purveyor  wi^th  old  Chaucer's  irrepressible,  '•  Ah^  henediaite  I  A\  bene- 
dicite  r  "— A^.  Y.  Daily  Tribune. 

"  The  work  avUI  be  hailed  with  satisfaction  by  every  one  who  can  appreciate  the 
genial  humor,  wit,  and  pathos,  which  have  given  such  a  zest  to  the  Knickerbocker  for 
so  many  years." — AugusUi  (Jfe.)  Gospel  Banner. 

"The  title  is  a  veiy  taking  and  happy  one.  It  cannot  fail  to  have  a  wide  sale,  and 
become  immen-^ely  popular;  readable,  quotable,  and  enjoyable,  for  all  ages,  sexes,  and 
conditions." — N'.  Y.  Sunday  Courier. 

"  A  most  various  and  pleasant  companion  for  tho  traveller  abroad,  or  the  stayer  at 
borne." — Croydon  (Jnd.)  Gazette. 

"  We  have  often  wished  for  just  this  very  book,  and  wo  shall  welcome  it  rejoicingly." 
— Sttsque/ianJia  {Pa.)  Register. 

"These  '  Knick-Knacks'  are  bound  to  have  a  run  wherever  Clark  and  the  Knicker 
backer  are  known,  which  is  everywhere  this  side  of  the  Kaflirs  and  the  New-Zealand 
er^'"—2fashua  (jV.  //.)  Jou?mal. 

"  That  will  be  a  book  for  the  million— for  all  capable  of  feeling  and  enjoying— who 
can  neither  resist  laughter  nor  forbid  tears  that  will  out,  and  must  have  vent,  when  the 
iecret  strings  of  the  heart  are  touched.  '  Old  Knick '  has  many  friends  and  admirers 
who  will  thank  him  for  this  excellent  idea.  His  '  Knick-Knacks'  will  go  off  like  hoi 
cake8.  They  are  just  the  article  the  people  most  affect,  and  cannot  fail  to  be  popular 
with  all  classes  of  readers." — Reading  {Pa,)  Journal. 

"To  doubt  the  success  of  the  '  Knick-Knacks'  would  be  about  equal  to  doubting  the 
success  of  tlie  Knickerbocker  itself,  which,  happily,  is  one  of  the  fixed  literary  facts  of 
American  history," — Godey's  Lady's  Book. 

"Those  who  have  enjoyed  the  'feast  of  fat  things'  spread  before  them  monthly,  la 
the  '  Editor's  Table'  of  '  Old  Knlck,'  need  no  artificial  stimulus  to  create  an  appetiti 
Cmrtbe  *  Knick-Knacks.' " — Adrian  {Mich)  Watchtaioer. 

**  If  Clark  does  not  print  and  sell  60,000  copies,  '  the  foola  are  not  all  dead,'  'o^i 
aointain  a  vetj  dedded  oi^orlty  among  the  *  petplee.'  ^*^Qrcthnm'9  MoffoainA 


D.  Appleton  dc  Company's  Publico tions, 


JVow  Ready,  the  Tenth  Thousand, 

THE  LOFTY  AND  THE  LOWLY; 

OR,   GOOD   IN   ALL,    AND   NONE   ALL-GOOD 

9JiI  J&mk  3.  3Mr3ntD5ti, 

Author  of  *'Two  Lives,"   *'Charms  and  Counter-Charms,"  '*  Evenings  ti 

Bonald^^on  Manor,"  etc.,  etc. 

2  vols.  12mo.     Paper  covers,  Si ;  cloth,  $1   5a 

*♦*  /^/^,  in  its  varied  relations  at  the  North  and  the  South,  ?>  the  theme  of  this 

work.    In  its  graphic  delineations  of  character,  truthfulnessi  of  rejjreftentation,  and 

stirring  realities  of  life,  it  will  hardly  give  place  to  "  Uncle  Tom's  C(d>iny     The 

authoress  if<  well  known  to  the  pnhlic   ly  her  nuiny  charming  tcorks  offirtion,  and 

her  life  Jius  been  passed  at  the  North  and  South.     TJie  nnhlenests  of  her  aeoiti merits^ 

her  elevated  and  candifi  vieicfi,  her  genuine  feelings  rf  humanity,  and  the  elegance 

and  eloquence  of  her  pen,  are  brought  out  in  these  pages  with  tlieirfuU  brilliancy 

and  effect.  

A    FEW   CRITICISMS   OF    THE   PRES8. 

"As  t(.  its  1  terary  mcT'cs,  w<»  can  honestly  commend  it  is  a  charmins:  story,  and  fo» 
Its  moral  influence,  we  tnink  ihe  admirers  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  will  not  find  tlieii 
dislike  of  slavery  groat'y  lessened  by  its  perusal,  while  they  may  be  peisuaded  to  ciierist 
a  kindlier  feeling  trwurd  those  whose  lot  is  cast  amid  the  institutions  of  the  South."- 
Oincinna ti  Magazine. 

"  It  is  a  bo(»k  of  great  interest,  written  in  a  candid,  truthful  sjnrit — the  arrnnsrembnt 
of  the  i>Iot  and  incidents  is  skilful,  and  the  work  abounds  in  passages  of  great  i)athosand 
of  thrilliiiii:  i  terest."" — Boston  Journal. 

'■  A  good  book,  comnjendable  in  spirit  and  creditab-e  in  execution — it  will  make  it* 
vay  in  public  favor,  and  win  for  its  accomplished  author  the  commend. .tion  of  all  dis 
fissiopate  rcailers." — Doily  Times. 

"  Written  in  a  most  admirable  tone,  and  with  manifest  sincerity.'*' — Troy  WJiig. 

"  Miss  Mcintosh  will  certainly  find  a  host  of  very  earnest  admirers  of  the  'Lofty  an# 
the  Lowly." — Tribune. 

**  Tier  sketches  of  character  and  incidents  show  tbat  she  is  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
grouiid  upon  which  she  treads." — Journal. 

"  "We  assure  our  readers  they  will  arise  ft-om  the  perusal  of  these  pages  impressed 
with  the  important  lesson  they  contain." — Gazette. 

"The  characters  are  depicted  with  force  and  clearness." — Pliiladelphia  Inquire^. 

"Thf  most  eagei  urvel  reader  will  find  himself  satisfied  with  the  novelty  ofincidei!f 
With  which  this  book  is  fillec  '*— Charleston  Gazette. 

"^Written  with  a  great  refinement  o!  fbeling."— ^?crc7?7?(7  Gazette. 

"The  bi>ok  throughout  exhibits  great  dramatic  power,  fine  knowledge  of  charsctn 
Uid  nnn.n»al  command  of  language.'" — Buffalo  Com.  Advertiser. 

"ll  places  Miss  Mcintosh  in  the  front  rank  of  American  Novelists."—  Uii&A  G^lt. 

•  "^  e  cordially  recommend  this  noble  romance."— (Ontario  Repository, 


D.  Applcton  dt  Company's  PuUications, 


LADY  FULLERTON'S   NOVELS 

LADY-BIRD. 

jne  Volume,  12mo.     Cloth,  75  cents;  Paper  Cover,  50  cents. 

**A  beautiful  and  aflV>cting  story,  told  in  a  sweet  pure  style,  and  swaying  the  hetrt 
f)y  Its  natural  and  lif  ''•Xt)  ucenes.  It  is  a  story  of  wilfulness,  trial,  misery,  and  of  beia? 
'A  v*e  '  i)erfect  tL  ""^g'u  auffering'  on  the  part  of  the  heroine  Gertrude,  the  '  Lady  Bi»- 1' 
it  he  story.  "^  «ted  sentiments  and  pure  thoughts  are  the  characteristics  of  tho 
H«jry." — AV'dn'j  Anickerbocker. 

'  Tue  autho.ess  of  these  volumes,  if  she  has  not  the-.significant  name  of  Currer  Bell, 
rtrserves  as  highly  the  value  of  her  sex,  for  her  gift  in  portraying  the  finest  natures,  an.i 
giving  to  her  readers  not  only  much  to  charm  and  interest,  but  suggestiL>ns  Htr  earnest 
thought,  which  may  ripen  into  the  beautiful  characters  she  so  skilfully  depicts.  Tho 
present  volumes  will  aid  to  her  celebrity.' — Journal  of  Commerce. 

*'  This  book  deserves  more  than  an  ordinary  notice.  We  do  not  often  read  novels ; 
but  when  we  opened  this  we  found  it  difficult  to  lay  it  down.  The  characteristics  are 
well  drawn,  and  un exaggerated,  so  that  they  seem  like  people  one  meets  every  day,  and 
the  interest  is  sustained  to  the  last,  with  a  great  deal  of  pr  .t-er."— i?osi<9/i  Pilot. 

II. 

E  L  L  E  K    M  I  D  D  L  E  T  O  N  . 

One  Volume,  r2mo.     Cloth,  75  cents;  Paper  Cover,  50  cents. 

"This  tale  is  by  the  author  of 'Grantley  Manor,'  which  alone  will  secure  for  it  a 
wide  circle  of  readers.  But  It  has  an  intrinsic  excellence  also  The  narrative  is  well 
Austaine(i  throughout.  There  is  no  stiffness  or  flagging  in  the  dialogues,  and  the  senti- 
ments are  pure." — Courier  and  Enquirer, 

"■  Ellen  Middleton  is  a  work  of  much  interest  and  ability.  The  style  is  admirable, 
and  her  practical  observations  show  a  clearness  and  depth  of  thought  rarely  found 
•mong  the  younger  members  of  the  fair  sex." — Boaton  Atlas. 

III. 

GEANTLEY    MANOR. 

One  V'olume,  12mo.     Cloth,  75  cents;  Paper  Cover,  50  cents. 

"Grantlcy  Manor  is  the  title  of  an  exceedingly  interesting  volume,  which  we  have 
read  with  more  than  ordinary  pleasure.  The  style  is  elegant,  the  story,  which  involvea 
a  succession  of  mysteries  and  cross  purposes,  is  well  developed,  and  the  scene  and  char* 
acter  painting  is  full  of  spirit  and  truth.  The  authoress  is  certainly  a  woman  of  genius, 
which  she  has  used  to  excellent  purpose." — Southern  Literary  Messenger. 

"Lady  Georgiana  Fullerton's  first  appearance  as  a  novelist  rendered  her  famous  at 
once.  Ellen  Middleton,  her  drst  production,  was  a  powerfully  constructed  s'-ory,  mani- 
festing great  ability  in  the  author,  which  Grantley  Manor  fully  confirms.  We  commend 
the  book  most  cordially." — Evening  Mirror. 

"The  book  is  an  excellent  one,  and  tho  Lady  Georgiana's  style  is  admirable.  It  if 
dear, concise,  glowing  an'l  laly-liko.  Her  dialogue  and  narrative  .ikewleo  sliow  great 
d^iil  In  perception  aud  arrangement."'— /*/iiZac/6//>A/«  Enquirer, 


D,  Appltton  &  Company's  FubliccUiota. 

JULIA    KAVANAGH'S   WORKS. 


DAISY    BUENS. 

12 mo.     Two  Parts.     Paper  Cover,  75  cents;  or  in  1  VoL  cloth,  fl 

"^The  clear  conception,  tho  forcible  delineation,  the  style,  at  once  elegant  and  powa 
W,  of  Miss  Kavanagh's  former  works,  are  exhibited  in  this,  as  well  as  deep  thonght  an 
•ouiid  moral  reflection.  Every  thing  presented  to  the  reader,  whether  thought  or  imag« 
ti  elaborated  with  tb3  finish  of  a  Flemish  painting  without  its  grossness ;  tho  person 
•re  nicely  conceived  and  consistently  sustained,  and  the  principal  narrative  is  relieved 
by  very  truthful  pictures  of  every  day  life  and  character." — London  Spectator. 

"  A  very  delightful  tale.  *  *  *  The  charm  of  the  story  is  in  its  natural nes.«j.  It 
le  perfectly  quiet,  domestic,  and  truthful.  In  the  calm  force  and  homely  realities  of  itf 
•cenes  it  reminds  us  of  Miss  Austen."— r/me^. 

"  All  her  books  are  written  with  talent  and  a  woman's  true  feeling."—  JJ.  S.  Gazette. 

"It  is  fall  of  deep  feeling,  tenderness,  pure  feminine  sentiment  and  moral  truth."— 
A  V)aiiy  Knickerbocker. 

NATHALIE. 

Two  Parts.  12mo.  Paper  Covers,  To  cents ;  cloth,  $1. 
"A  work  of  ex^jaordinary  merit,  with  a  far  deeper  design  than  merely  to  amuse,  it 
attempts  to  solve  some  of  the  subtle  problems  of  human  nature.  Some  of  the  wisest 
lessons  in  life  are  taught  in  the  work,  while  the  artistic  skill  %vith  which  the  narrative 
is  managed  impaits  a  vivid  interest.  The  author  might  be,  with  a  stronger  infusion  oi 
the  poetic  element,  another  Joanna  Baillie;  and  no  ere  will  read  the  work  without  a 
high  estimate  of  her  dramatic  powers  and  her  deep  insight." — Evangelist, 

III. 

MADELEINE. 

One  Volume.     12mo.     Paper  Covers,  50  cents;  cloth,  15  cents. 

"  A  charming  story,  gracefully  told.  Its  intrinsic  interest  as  a  narrative,  and  th« 
tenderness  of  its  pathos  will  win  for  it  many  readers." — Boston  Traveler. 

"  The  character  of  Madeleine,  the  heroine,  is  beautifully  drawn  and  powerfully  por- 
trayed. Miss  Kavanagh  is  most  known  by  her  excellent  novel  of  '  Nathalie.'  This  book 
J  no  less  interest,  though  oi  h  very  different  kind."— Co i^rie?'  and  Enq. 


WOMEN    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 

One  Volume.     12mo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 

**The  design  and  spirit  of  this  volume  are  alike  admirable.  Miss  Kavanagh  divide 
er  work  intD  four  periods ;  the  first  relates  the  deeds  of  holy  women  under  tho  Roman 
empire ;  the  secon  \  tells  us  of  the  fruits  of  faith  in  the  middle  ages ;  tho  third  is  devoted 
to  tho  women  of  thti  seventeenth  century ;  and  the  fourth  to  those  of  the  eighteenth  and 
present  centuries.  We  have  read  many  of  these  records  of  other  days,  as  told  by  Misi 
Kavanagh,  and  we  are  sure  that  the  influence  upon  every  Christian-minded  person 
M!vu>t  but  be  for  good,  if  he  will  meditate  upon  what  our  holy  religion  is  every  day  do- 
m       The  volume  Is  well  worthy  a  place  in  every  Christian  family."— ^an.  of  the  Orom 


D.  Appleton  &  Company's  Publications. 

€\im  itlM  ^nglisl  Waxls  of  i'utm, 

4-»> 

I. 

THE  HEIR  OF  REDCLYITE. 

A  Tale.     2  vols.  12 mo.     Paper,  $1  00  ;  cloth,  $1  50. 

"  A  ijovel  of  really  high  merit  The  characters  are  most  skilfully  drawn  out  In  th« 
course  of  the  story.  The  death  of  Guy  is  one  of  the  most  touching  things  we  evei 
read.  ♦  *  *  The  work  is  one  of  absorhinsr  interest,  and  what  is  still  better,  the  moral 
taught  in  its  [)ages  is  eminently  healthy  and  elevating.  We  commend  the  book  most 
cordially,"—  Com.  A<h\ 

'•The  wh(de  tone  and  feeling  of  this  book  is  good  and  true.  The  reader  does  net 
require  to  be  told  that  the  author  is  religious;  the  right  principles,  the  hisrh  srnse  oi 
duty  and  honor,  softened  by  the  influence  of  a  reverent  faith,  can  be  explained  on  no 
other  hypothesis.  It  is  eminently  a  book  to  send  the  reader  away  from  the  perusal  bet- 
ter and"  wiser  for  the  lessons  hidden  under  its  deeply  iateresting  narrative."— Lant/on 
Gti<irdi(tn. 

''  A  well  written,  spirited  and  interesting  work.  It  is  full  of  character,  sparkling 
with  conversation,  and  picturesque  with  paintings  of  nature.  The  plot  is  well  con- 
ceived and  handsomely  wrought  out.  There  is  a  freshness  of  feeling  and  tone  of  healthy 
sentiment  about  such  novels,  that  recommend  them  to  public  favor." — Albany  Suec 
iator. 

n. 

LIGHT  AND  SHADE; 

OR,     THE     YOUNG     ARTIST 

A  Tale.     By  Anna  Harriet  Drury,  author  of   "  Friend?  and  Fortune," 

"  Eastbury,"  <fec.     12ino.     Paper  cover,  50  cents;  cloth,  75  cents. 

•*  It  '.8  a  beautiful  and  ably  written  story." — Churchman. 

"The  story  is  well  written,  and  will  be  read  with  much  pleasure  as  well  as  profit" — 
Lan>'in{jhnrgh  GnzHtfi. 

**  A  novel  with  a  deep  religious  tone,  bearing  and  aim — ^a  mos*-  attractive  style."— 
Sprin  (ijicld  R^'/t  itl>  lien  n. 

♦  We  coituneiid  her  books  to  the  young,  as  among  those  from  which  they  hav« 
nothing  toft^ar." — N'^ic-f/tiv^n  Couripr. 

"  A  very  well  told  tale,  mingling  the  grave  and  gay,  the  tender  and  severe,  in  fair 
eroportions.  It  displays  a  genius  and  skill  in  the  writer  of  no  ordinary  measure."—  Trih. 

III. 

THE    DEAN'S    DAUGHTEE; 

Or,  THE  DAYS  WE  LIVE  IN. 
By  Mrs.  Gore.     1  vol.  r2mo.     Paper,  60  cents;  cloth,  76  cents 

"The  *  Dean's  Daughter*  will  doubtless  be  one  of  the  most  succes/fjl  books  of  the 
season.  It  abounds  in  all  those  beauties  which  have  hithert<»  distinguUned  Nfrs.  Gore's 
novels.  The  management  of  the  incidents  of  the  story  is  as  clever,  I *je  ^tyle  is  as  bril- 
liaiit,  the  satire  as  keen,  and  the  conversation  as  flowing,  as  in  the  best  of  her  works."— 
Doilif  NfitcH. 

"  It  will  be  read  with  pleasure  by  thousands." — Herald. 

"TirH.  Gore  is  perhaps  the  wittiest  of  modern  novelists.  Of  all  -he  ladies  who  in 
later  times  have  taken  in  hand  the  weapon  of  satire,  her  blade  is  certainly  the  mosi 
trenchant  A  vapid  lord  or  a  purse-proud  citizen,  a  money-huntina  woman  of  fashion 
6x  a  toad-eater,  a  huirthug  in  short,  male  or  female,  and  of  whatsoever  ca'^t  or  qunliry  he 
may  be,  will  find  his  pretensions  well  castigated  in  some  one  or  other  of  ficr  brilliant 
pi<gcs;  while  scattered  about  in  many  places  are  passages  and  scenes  of  infinite  tender 
nesa,  showing  that  our  authoress  is  not  insensible  to  the  gentler  qualities  ol  oui  natUTP 
wd  Is  mistress  of  pathos  in  no  common  degree." — Fxaminer 


D,  Appleton  &  Company  s  Publications, 


CHOICE    NEW   AYORKS    FOR   FAMILY   READING 


HAREY  MUIE. 

A     STORY     OF     SCOTTISH     LIFE. 
Bj  the  author  of  "Mrs.  Margaret  Maitland,"  etc.     One  vol.  12mo.    Cloth, 

75  cents;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 
**  We  prefer  Harry  Muir  to  most  of  the  Scottish  Novels  that  havfl  appeared  since 
Chilt's  DDDiestic  Stories  were  published.    This  new  tale  by  the  author  of  Margaret  Mait- 
land,  is  "  over  true'' — a  real  picture  of  the  weakness  of  man's  nature  and  the  depth  of 
woman's  tenderness." — AthencBum. 

n. 

PASSAGES  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  MES.  MARGARET 
MAITLAND,  OF  SUNNYSIDE. 

Written  by  herself.     12rao.     Paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  75  cents. 

"  This  is  one  of  thoso  charming  works  in  which  the  affections  of  the  female  heart 
are  portrayed  as  they  are  wrought  upon  by  the  vicissitudes  and  trials  of  life.  The 
scenes  are  laid  chiefly  in  the  quiet  glens  of  Scotland,  and  the  actors  are  represented  as 
possessing  all  the  rich  and  genial  elements  of  the  noblest  Scottish  character.  It  is 
written  with  a  sjDirited  and  powerful  pen,  and  cannot  fail  strongly  to  impress  th-^ 
reader."— ^i;e.  Mirror. 

IIL 

EOSE  DOUGLASS ; 

Or,  THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  MINISTER'S  DAUGHTER. 
By  S.  R.  M.     1  vol.  12mo.     Paper  covers,  50  cents;  cloth,  75  cents. 

"The  style  of  the  writer  is  pure  and  pleasing,  and  the  moral  tone  of  the  book  not 
merely  unexceptionable,  but  positively  excellent." — Commercial  Advertiser. 

"This  is  one  of  that  class  of  novels  to  which  the  reader  turns  with  delight  after 
reading  some  of  the  trash  that  is  put  forth  by  the  press.  It  abounds  in  soul-elevating 
thoughts,  and  no  person  caa  read  it  without  being  made  wiser  and  better  thereby.  It 
Is  full  of  simple  and  naive  wisdom,  shrewd  delineation  of  character  in  great  variety, 
and  has  a  Scotch  canny-ness  and  piquancy  that  rivet  the  attention  even  amidst  simple 
Incidents.  We  like  it  muCh,  and  cordially  commend  it  to  our  readers." — Norwich 
Evening  Courier. 

IT. 

THE  USE  OF  SUNSHINE. 

By  S.  M.     1  vol  16mo.    Paper,  60  cents;  cloth,  75  cents. 

**  This  is  a  moral  tale  of  exceeding  beauty.  It  is  elegantly  written,  full  of  just  senti- 
ments, and  inculcates  moral  lessons.  It  is  a  tale  for  the  family,  encouraging  social,  do 
mestic  pleasures,  and  leaving  upon  the  mind  religious  impressions.  It  can  never  \m 
ead  without  profit."— -Bos^a;i  Journal. 

V, 

HOME  IS  HOME. 

A  Domestic  Story.     12mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  clot^^,  'JS  cents. 

•* "We  have  no  objection  to  suoh  'light  literature '  as  this.    It  fa_^  .-..ce  the  dew  or  .u* 

gentle  rain,  lightly,  it  is  true,  but  it  falls  to  cheer  and  gladden  the  heart    There  are 

f feasant  and  profitable  lessons  in  the  pages  of  this  book,  and  the  reader  cannot  helf 
oving  its  heroine,  the  gentle  Kate  Sinclair,  and  all  who  love  her."—  LiU  Oaz. 


WORKS  BY  MISS  SEAYELL, 

PUBLISHED  BY  D.  APPLETON   &  COMPANY. 


THE  EXPERIENCE  OF  LIFE:   A  TALE. 

One  vol.  12mo.    Paper  cover,  50  cents  ;  clotli,  75  cents.    {Just  readyJ) 

A  JOURNAL  KEPT  DURING  A  SUMMER  TOUR 

FOE  THE  CHILDEEN  OF  A  VILLAGE  SCHOOL. 

Three  parts  in  one  vol.  12mo.  Cloth,  $1. 
**  A  very  simple  and  sweetly  written  work.  There  is  the  same  natnrftl  and  graocrfii] 
detail  that  mark  Miss  Sewell's  novels.  It  will  find  a  great  many  admirers  among  the 
young  people,  who  will  be  almost  as  happy  as  the  fair  traveller  in  wandering  over  th« 
ground  on  which  she  has  looked  with  a  discriminating  eye,  and  received,  and  commu- 
aicated  suggestions  which,  from  her  enlarged  sphere  o*"  observation,  can  hardly  fall  to 
•nlarge  the  heart  as  well  as  to  enrich  the  intellect." — Commercial  Advertiser, 

ni. 

THE  FARES  DAUGHTER:    A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Kev.  Wm.  Sewell,  B.  A:    One  vol.  12mo.    Paper  cover,  60 
cents  ;  cloth,  75  cents. 

MARGARET  PERCIVAL:    A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Kev.  Wm.  Sewell,  B.  A.    Two  vols.  12nio.    Paper  cover,  $1 ; 

cloth,  $1  60. 

GERTRUDE:    A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Kev.  Wm.  Sewell,  B.  A.    12mo.    Cloth,  75  cents;    papef 
cover,  50  centfe. 

AMY  HERBERT:    A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Kev.  Wm.  Sewell,  B.  A.    One  vol.  12mo.    Goth,  75  cents 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

vn. 

LAN  FT  ON  PARSONAGE:    A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Kev.  Wm.  Sewell,  B.  A.    Three  vols.  12mo.    Goth,  $2  25 
paper  cover,  $1  60. 

vxn. 

WALTER  LORIMER,  AND  OTHER  TALES. 

12mo.    Cloth,  75  cents. 

THE  CHILD'S  FIRST  HISTORY  OF  ROME. 

One  vol.  16mo.    50  cents. 

THE  CHILD'S  FIRST  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 

One  vol.  16mo. 


D,  Appleton  S:  Corajxiny^s  Publicaiioni. 

MARIA  J.  m"^NTOSH'S   WORES.' 


THE  LOFTY  AND  THE  LOWLY  , 

Or,    good    in    all    AND    NONE     ALL    GOOb. 
Two  vols.  \2mo.      Cloth,  §1  50;   paper  coners,  $1. 

"Life,  In  its  varied  relations  at  the  North  and  at  the  S(»nth,  is  the  theme  of  tbit 
wark.  In  its  {rra;)iiic  delineutions  of  charncter,  trnthfiilness  of  representati»»n,  and  stir- 
ring n^alitie?^  of  life,  it  will  Imrdly  give  place  to  "  Unfle  Tom's  CHbin."  The  aulhorfsn 
Hjb  woll  known  to  the  puhlic  by  her  niany  charnjini:  works  of  fiction,  and  her  Iif(  iiae 
^oen  passed  at  the  North  and  South.  The  nobleness  of  her  sentiments,  liereleva'cd  and 
j&n  lid  view.s.  Iier  jreniiine  feelings  of  humanity.  Mnd  tlie  eleirance  and  eloquence  of  bei 
uen.  are  brought  out  in  these  pages  with  their  full  brilliancy  an<l  etfecU" 

II. 

EVENINGS  AT  DONALDSON  MANOR  j 

Or,    THt    CHRISTMAS    GUEST. 

Ont   vol.   \27no.       Cloth,   75   cents;    paper  covers,  5"   cnits;   or,  a  finer 

Edition,  Illustrated  witlt   Ten.  Steel  Kngraahcgs,  Qno,  cloth,  $2;   giU 

edg^s,  $2  50 ;    inoroc^o,  $3  50. 

It  is  a  ijook  that  parents  may  buy  for  their  children,  brothers  for  their  sisters,  or 
h'jsbarids  for  their  wives,  with  the  rissurance  that  the  book  will  not  only  gi\e  pleasjrtj, 
but  c<»n\ey  lessons  of  love  and  charity  that  can  hardly  fail  to  leave  <'  irable  Impreseicni 
of  moral  and  social  duty  upon  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  .-eader.'" — EoenLng  Mirror 

III. 

WOMAN  IN  AMERICA ; 

H  t  L.  WORK  AND  HER  REWARD. 

One  vol.   \2nio.     Paper  covers,  50  cents;    cloth,   63    cents. 

"  Wr»  ike  t"Jiis  work  exceedingly,  and  our  fair  countrywomen  will  a.lmire  it  still  more 

than  we  d(».     It  is  written  in  the  true  spirit,  and  e\  inces  e.vten^i  ve  observation  of  society, 

a  clear  in-^ight  into  the  evils  surrounding  and  pressing  down  her  sex.  and  a  gh)rious  de* 

termination  to  expose  and  remove  them.     Read  her  work.    She  will  win  a  willing  way 

to  the  heart  and  home  of  woman,  and  her  mission  wiil  be  found  to  be  one  of  beneficence 

and  love.     Truly,  woman  has  her  work  and  her  vQwavCi."^— American  Spectator. 

IV. 

CHARMS  AND  COUNTER-CHARMS. 

One  vol.  \2f/io.     Cloth,  ^l  ;    or,  in  Two  Parts,  paper,  75  cents. 

"This  is  one  of  those  healthflil,  truth/id  vrorks  of  fiction,  which  improve  the  beai^ 
and  enlighten  tlie  judgment,  whilst  they  furnish  amusement  to  the  passing  hour.  Th« 
style  is  clear,  ea«iy  and  simple,  and  the  construction  of  the  story  artistic  in  a  high  degroa^ 
We  commend  most  cordially  tlie  book." — Tribune, 

V. 

TWO  LIVES ;   OR,  TO  SEEM  AND  TO  BE. 

One  vol.  \2mo.     Paper  covers,  50  cents  ;    cloth,   75  cents. 

"The  previous  works  of  Miss  Mcintosh,  although  issued  anonymously,  have  been 
p-ipidar  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word.  The  simple  beauty  of  her  narratives,  comldninf 
Diiro  sentiuient  with  high  principle,  and  noble  views  of  life  and  its  duties,  ought  to  win 
fc»r  them  a  hearing  at  every  fireside  in  our  land.  We  have  rarely  perused  a  tale  mort 
Interesting  and  instructive  than  the  one  before  us,  and  wc  commend  it  most  cordially  to 
ftb6  attention  of  all  our  readers."— Protes^ani  Churchman 

VL 

AUNT  KITTY'S  TALES. 

A  new  edition,  complete  in  one  vol.  l2mo.      Cloth,  7 J  cts.]  paper,  50  cti. 
This  volume  -wntalns  the  following  delightfblly  interesting  stories:  "Blind  Allo^* 
**  Jessie  Graham,"  "Florence  ArnotV'  "  Grace  and  Clara,"  "Ellen  Leslie;  or,  The  Itt 
rardof  Self'ControL" 


CHOICE    NEW    WORKS  OF    FICTION 
PUBLISHED  BY  J).  APPLETON  &,  GO 

BA"SIL; 

A    STOR^    OF    MODERN    LIFE. 

By  W.  WILKIE  COLLHSTS, 

4atbor  of  "  Antonina,"  etc.,  etc.     One  vol  12Tno     Paper  cover,  50c. ;  Clotlk)  TS<k 

"  Basil"  is  eminently  an  original  work,  in  plan  and  execution,  and  not  a 
&  ire  copy  of  the  modern  novel.  It  is  strongly  marked  by  the  genius  oi 
ILd  author — a  genius  which  is  greatly  indebted  to  ripe  scholarship  and  to 
mvst  laborious  painstaking,  in  whatever  it  attempts  to  accomplish  :  and  is 
tlivi*efo»-e,  if  for  nothing  else,  worthy  of  recognition.  Should  this  work  fail 
of  jjopularity,  it  will  not  be  for  its  unworthiness,  but  for  its  unusual  excel- 
lenoe,  as  a  work  of  art.  There  is  nothing  meretricious  about  it." — Albany 
Eve'.ming  Journal. 

"  No  one  who  reads  this  work  but  will  pay  his  tribute  to  its  excellence. 
He  has  given  us  in  prose  fiction  the  poetry  of  every-c^ay  truth,  and  made  a 
brilhant  romance  which  even  in  this  age  of  book-n  aking,  will  live.  No 
reader  will  ever  confound  the  eloquent  writer  with  "  the  mob  of  gentlemen 
who  write  at  ease." — National  Intelligencer. 

"The  interest  and  beauty  of  fiction  are  strikingly  blended  with  the  re- 
alities of  modern  life,  in  this  new  work  of  Mr.  Collins :  and  whether  we 
regard  the  happy  manner  in  which  the  author  has  sustained  throughout  the 
plot  of  his  tale,  or  the  elegant  style  in  which  the  publishers,  Messrs.  Apple- 
tion  &  Co.,  have  presented  the  volume  to  the  American  reader,  we  equally 
recommend  it." — Boston  Times. 


KEUBEN    MEDLICOTT; 

OR,    THE    COMINQ    MAN. 
By  M.  W.  SAVAGE,  ESQ. 

AUTHOR  or  "the  bachelor  of  ALBANY,"  "  MY  UNCLE  THE  CURATE,"  ETO« 

One  vol.  12mo.  pp.  443.    Paper,  50c.:  Cloth,  T5c. 

"A  most  enterlnining  story  by  the  author  of  the  Bachelor  of  Albany 
£t  is  full  of  life  and  character,  and  is  written  sensibly,  humorously,  and  often 
•atirically."— A^.  Y.  Courier, 

"The  story  is  wall  told,  and  the  moral  a  most  instructive  one." — Daily 
Standard. 

"  The  narrative  is  rsmarkably  lively  and  amusing,  and  the  varied  char 
clew  are  depicted  in  a  graphic  and  sparkling  manner."— (7^/*.  Messenger. 

"The  story  is  very  bknfully  and  yet  naturally  wrought  out,  and  ho  will 
oe  a  fortunate  reader  who  does  not  find  parts  of  it  bearing  closely  upon  pa»- 
•ages  in  his  own  life." — Albany  Register. 

"A  satirical  novel,  written  in  a  style  of  high  art  and  careless  careiulneas 
rarely  excelled.  We  have  8tj>5n  nothing  more  lively,  polished  and  piquant 
for  many  a  day."— A'.  Y.  Post. 

"  It  la  written  in  a  dazzling  and  joyons  styie,  which  c«rtaii)ly  reoo» 
mwida  it."— 2rr)?/   Whig. 


D.  Applelon  <&  Company'is  Publications. 

GRACE    AGUILAR'S   WORKS. 


HOME  SCENES  AXD  HEART  STUDIES. 

One  vol.  12mo.     Paper  cover,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  75  cent?. 

*'  With  this  volume,  which  completes  the  seriee  in  which  the  delinearion  of  :b<»  chti- 
irtt'T  of  woman  lias  been  the  cliief  design,  tlie  public  nv>\v  have  tlie  Works  <»f  Grao€ 
A-fLuilar,  the  iiilrinsic  inierest  and  value  of  which  have  wutf  f»)r  tliem  an  enviable  repu- 
totion.  Tliis  last  y)i'  the  series  consists  of  a  variety  of  tales  and  skt^iches  well  calculated 
to  awaken  seniiiiieMts  of  pure  atfecli()n,  and  inspire  the  heart  with  nobler  and  holiet 
cusil>i'\ties,  by  it>  impres^ive  illustrations  of  the  delights  of  Home" — Tribune. 

"  IJ-r  books  all  bear  tite  impress  of  genius,  consecrated  to  the  noblest  purposes.  They 
may  be  put  into  the  hands  of  all  classes,  without  the  least  hesitation  ;  and  n()  better  ser 
vice  could  be  renclered  to  tiie  age,  than  to  inspire  it  with  a  love  for  these  prod uctionai 
We  recoiianeMd  this  series  of  books  to  cur  readers,  and  e.'^pecially  to  our  female  readers 
Let  Ibem  get  and  read  the  writings  of  this  champion  of  their  sex." — Obaenier. 

THE  mother's""  RECOMPEXSE. 

r2nio.     Paper,  50  cents ;   cloth,  75  cents. 
"It  is  a  fragrant  offering  to  the  cause  of  domestic  virtue  and  happiness." — Albany 

"In  the  domestic  circle,  and  by  all  our  fair  readers,  this  excellent  story  wJi  meet 
with  a  cordial  welcome." — Home  Journal. 

IIL 

WOMAN'S  FEIENDSH1.\ 

A  Story  of  Domestic  Life.     12mo.     Cloth,  75  cents;  paper,  50  cents. 

"This  work  shou'd  find  a  welcome  in  every  family  circle,  where  it  is  so  well  calcu- 
lated to  do  good," — Cor)nnercx<xl  Advertiser. 

"The  style  of  this  production  closely  resembles  that  of  Miss  Edge  worth.  It  is  ont 
of  those  vivid  pictur^o  of  e very-day  life  that  never  fails  to  please." — N.  0,  True  Delta, 

THE  VALE  OF  CEDARS ;    OR,  THE  MARTYR. 

A  Story  of  Spain  in  the  Fifteenth  Century.    12mo.     Paper.  50  c©nta; 
cloth,  75  cents. 

"The  grace  and  vigor  of  the  style,  the  masterly  manner  in  which  the  details  of  the 
itory  are  managed,  and  its  thrilling  interest,  render  the  book  one  of  the  most  absorbing 
that  we  have  read  for  some  time." — Newark  Daily  Advertiser. 

THE  WOMEN  OF  ISRAEL. 

Two  \ols.  12mo.  Paper,  $1  ;  cloth,  $1  50. 
^By  no  writer  have  the  characters  of  the  celebrated  Women  of  Israel  beeii  so  cor 
rectly  appreciated,  or  eloquently  delineated  Those  high  attainments  of  pi€ty,  thoMf 
graces  of  spirit,  which  have  placed  them  in  the  rank  of  examples  for  all  subsequent 
generations,  are  spread  before  us  with  a  geniality  of  spirit  and  a  beauty  of  style  which 
wiB  secuce  the  warmest  admiration ;  at  the  same  time  their  weaknesses  and  errors  ara 
not  overlooked  or  excused." — Courier  and  Enquirer 

THE  DAYS^OF  BRUCE. 

A  Story  from  Scottish  History.     2  vols.  16mo.     Paper,  $1 ;  cloth,  $1  5u 

"  Thia  truly  delightful  work  t^kes  a  higher  position  than  that  of  a  novel.  It  is  ftiU 
ftf  sound  instruction,  close  and  logical  reasoning,  and  is  fill  with  practical  le«sons  of  «very- 
iAjr  coaracter,  v.'hich  renders  it  a  desirable  book  for  th<i  young."-  -Albany  Keoiiter, 


D.  Applefon  ct  Comjjajiy's  Publications. 


TIME  AND  TIDE  ; 

OR,     STTwIVE     AND     WIN. 

By  A.  S.  Roe.     12mo.     Cloth,  63  cents;    paper,  38  cents. 

""We  "^ish  that  every  work  of  fiction  we  are  called  to  notice  was  as  admirable  la  ill 
kHie  as  this,  for  tliere  are  few  which  we  can  so  unliesitatingly  put  into  the  band*  of  a 
foang  person.  We  gladly  welcome  any  such  addition  to  our  ligbter  literature."--fi'£»pr6W 

TO  LOVE  AND  TO  BE  LOVED; 

A  Story.     By  A.'S.  Roe.     12mo.   Paper  cover,  38  cents;    cloth,  63  cental 

"This  is  one  of  those  attractive  romances  in  wbicb  the  pnrest  passions  of  the  heart 
we  delineated  with  a  simplicity  of  style  and  an  elevation  of  thought,  that  will  cbann 
•very  reader.  Love  in  its  fulness  and  its  richness,  its  delicacy  and  its  fervor,  is  her€ 
portrayed  with  a  masterly  band.'' — Courier  and  Enq. 

III. 

JAMES  MONTI 0  Y  ; 

OR,    I'VE    BEEN    THINKING. 

By  A.  S.  Roe.     12mo.     Cloth,  75  cents  ;  paper,  50  cents. 

It  abounds  with  the  purest  and  deepest  moral  and  pious  sentiments  interwoven  with 

scenes  of  every  day  life,  in  a  manner  that  goes  directly  to  the  heart     It  is  a  work  otf 

which  Americans  may  well  be  prond.'''— Evangelist. 

HEARTS  UNVEILED  ; 

OR,    "I    KNEW    YOU    WOULD    LIKE    HIM." 

By  Sarah  Emery  Saymore.     12mo.     Paper,  50  cents;    cloth,  75  cents. 

"  This  is  a  pleasant,  unpretending  book,  abounding  with  moral  lessons,  and  written 

with  a  moral  purpose,  exposing  the  many  unthought  of  influences  which  operate  upon 

the  character,  and  illustrating  wliat  it  is  that  insures  real  happiness.    The  book  is  wel) 

calculated  to  benefit  young  minds  and  young  hearts.'" — Courier. 

SUNBEAMS  AND  SHADOWS,  AND  BUDS 
AND  BLOSSOMS. 

OR,  LEAVES  FROM  AUNT  MINNIE'S  PORTFOLIO. 
By  Georgie  A.  Hulse.     16mo.     Paper,  50  cents;   clotli,  75  cents, 
"This  Is  a  wholesome  and  refreshing  novel— the  dialogue  is  sprightly  and  sparkling 
kht  moral  good,  and  the  interest  of  the  work  is  well  sustained.    It  can  be  recommend 
•£,  we  think,  to  readers  of  all  descriptions." — Protest  Church/man. 

HELOISE; 

OR,    THE    UNREVEALED    SECRET. 

By  Talvi.    12mo.     Paper  cover,  60  cents ;  cloth,  75  centa 

vn. 

LIFE'S  DISCIPLINE: 
A  lUa,    By  Ta&ti    13ma    Fapar,  88  osnto;  dotlii,  08 


9     APPLETONS'  POPULAR  LIBRARY.      (^ 


Now  Ready. 
ESSAYS  FROM  THE  LONDON  TIMES ;    A  Collection  of 

Personal  and  Historical  Sketches. 

THE  YELLOWPLUSH'  PAPERS.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

THE  MAIDEN  AND.  MARRIED   LIFE  OF  MxVRY  POW- 
ELL :  afterwards  Mrs.  Milton. 

A    JOURNEY    THROUGH    TARTARY,    THIBET,    AND 

CHINA.    By  M.  Hue. 

THE  PxVRIS  SKETCH  BOOK.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 
GAIETIES  AND  GRAVITIES.     By  Horace  Smith,  one  of 

the  Authors  of  the  '*  Rejected  Addresses." 
THE  INGOLDSBY  LEGENDS.     By  Barham. 
PAPERS  FROM  THE  QUARTERLY  REVIEW. 
LITTLE  PEDLINGTON   AND  THE   PEDLINGTONIANS. 

By  the  Author  of  "Paul  Pry." 

A  JOURNEY  TO  KATMANDU;   OR,  THE  ItTEPAULESE 

AMBASSADOR  AT  HOME.    By  Lawrence  Olyphant. 

THE  BOOK  OF  SNOBS.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

A    BOOK    FOR    SUMMER    TIME   IN    THE    COUNTRY. 

By  thk  Rev.  R.  A.  Willmott. 

STORIES  FROM'' BLACKWOOD." 

MEN^S  WIVES.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

LIVES  OF  WELLINGTON  AND  PEEL. 

A  SHABBY  GENTEEL  STORY.     By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

A  SECOND  SERIES  OF  ESSAYS  FROM  THE  LONDON 

TIMES. 

CONFESSIONS  OF  FITZ  BOODLE  AND  MAJOR  GAHA- 

GAN.    By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

THE  LUCK   OF  BARRY  LYNDON :    A  Romance  of  the 

Last  Century.    By  W.  M.  Thackeray. 

LIFE  AND   MEMORIALS   OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER.    By 

Gen,  S.  p.  Lyman.    Two  vols.  16mo. 

MR.  BROWN'.S  LETTERS   TO  A   YOUNG   MAN.     THE 

PROSER,  &c.    By  W.  M.  Thackeray.    50  cts. 

PUNCH'S  PRIZE  NOVELISTS.  THE  FAT  CONTTRIBUTOR. 

TRAVELS  IN  LONDON.    By  W.  M.  Thackeray.    50  cts. 

JEAMES'S  DIARY;    A  TALE  OF  THE  PANIC  OF  1845. 
A  LEGEND  OF  THE  RHINE;    REBEO':'A  AND  EOWENA.    By  W. 

M.  TUACKJiRAY.      50  Cts. 


Nearly  Ready. 
THE  INGOLDSBY  LEGENDS,  2d  and  8d  Series,  with  a  Life 

of  the  Author. 

THEODORE  HOOK'S  LIFE  AND  LITERARY  REMAINS. 
.THE    MISCELLANEOUS    WORKS    OF    CHRISTOPHER, 
0  NORTH.  0 


V 


^^r  »♦ 


